Talking to myself

I am writing this AND eating lunch AND trying to keep a blanket wrapped tight around my body because I'm freezing. I know. Multitasking is AWESOME.

It's just too bad I have nothing to say.

A quick story, maybe. On Monday, when I was proofing the classified ads, I found a five-foot electric salad bar listed in our $500 and Under section--with a Plexiglas sneeze shield. Are you kidding me? Who doesn't need this? So I was like, Stacey! and then I proceeded to read her the entire ad. Because we have made Eric's garden shed our playhouse and we like to fill it up with all the cool stuff we find in the classifieds.

Theoretically, of course. We don't really have a broken mechanical bull or neon bar signs or slot machines or an Easy Bake Oven. Well, the garden shed isn't big enough. And also, this is one of those times where the thinking is better than the doing. 

Although a broken mechanical bull would be quite a conversation piece.

Anyway, so Stacey didn't say anything about our new playhouse find, which was confusing because this is the kind of thing that totally warrants a response, so I look around and realize I'm all alone.

"Oh, you're not here," I say.

I may talk to myself, but I rarely answer. That makes it better, right?

The end.

This makes me laugh.