It's only Tuesday, but I feel like I've put in enough work this week. I feel like maybe we should just shut this down and go to the beach or the forest or, heck, even the mall.

Let's all just do that, except none of you should go where I'm going. I need my alone time.

Also, I feel like getting dressed this morning is going to be an extreme sport, like skydiving or snowboarding, except with less adrenaline and more self-criticism. Maybe more whining, too, but since I've never actually participated in an extreme sport, I can't really say for sure.

At the very least, concentrating is going to be hard for me because today, for the very first time in THREE WEEKS, my husband has been cleared by his doctor to return to work! This means that he's going to be receiving my phone calls asking him how he's doing every fifteen minutes, and I don't think either one of us is going to have much time for anything else. Really.

In addition to my bad attitude, lack of anything to wear, and nervous excitement, I have also become fixated on a certain Danishy item that is in my fridge, which I cannot have, and I can't get away from it in my brain.

So how can I be expected to get anything done today?

I'm declaring a holiday. I'm allowed to do that, because I am a citizen of this country, and I have certain inalienable rights, one of which happens to be declaring personal holidays, at will, anytime I want. It's in the Constitution.

Go on, look for it.  I dare you. Don't you trust me? If you know your Constitution as well as I do, you will notice the part that grants me the right to freedom.


Freedom from annoying work tasks and having to wear pants.

That is my interpretation.

Deal.

And now be haunted by the Danish.

from burston.co.uk