How’s that for a title, huh? Jesus.

We’re on Day 27 of NaBloPoMo, and some nights the ol’ idea factory is lookin’ pretty spare. If you have anything you want me to write about…PUT EM IN THE COMMENTS, ‘cuz SERIOUSLY. DAY TWENTY-SEVEN.

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Tuesday didn’t start so good. . . .

I wasn’t even sleeping. I was just watching the Demetri Martin special on Netflix when I decided to hit the hay, sat up, and in a split second realized - oh, I actually feel really close to the edge of the bewwwaaaahhhhoooofff. I had my MacBook in my hands, and so instead of catching myself, I held it up like a child, like, “NOOOO NOT MAH BAYE-BEEEE” (I’m Claire from Lost in this scenario.) Who needs a shoulder, or a hip? Not me.

It was just after midnight, so I figured Tuesday had it in for me. But then I heard “Night Moves” on my morning commute, followed by “Pass the Dutchie.” (You know - on the left hand side.)

BUT IT GOT EVEN BETTER:

I MADE A FAYGO ROCK ‘N RYE FLOAT, PEOPLE:

When’s the last time you had effing FAYGO ROCK ‘N RYE. A DECADE, RIGHT? This float was pretty  boss.

OR HOW ABOUT THIS?

We’re getting close to Laundry Day, and by close, I mean, every article of clothing I own is strewn about, dirty. Tonight my jammies had to come from the recesses of my closet, from the Stack of Shirts that I No Longer Wear But Keep Carting Around with Me with Each Move For Some Reason.

AND LOOK WHAT I FOUND:

AW YEAH.