What's for lunch you ask?
Well, if you MUST know... THESE GUYS!
HA! JUST KIDDING! GOTCHA.
Anyways. I'm actually having a delicious salad at Panera. [Pause for a shoutout to the sweet old man next to me wearing a "STOP, FORREST, STOP" shirt. awwwwwww. Old people]
So... I know I haven't posted in a while. And honestly the only reason I am probably posting this right now is because of sweet Laura Ketola.
TIME OUT TO PROCRASTINATE ACTUALLY BLOGGING ABOUT MY MAIN POINT:
1. I am all for procrastinating
2. that is why I empathize with Laura's need to have something, ANYTHING on the internet to distract her from her actual studies.
3. Among such FABULOUS websites such as facebook and PINTEREST (which I am NOT addicted to... contrary to popular belief), I am proud that she would consider my inconsistent blog a stumbling block of the world wide web.
Thank you, Laura. I truly am honored.
OKAY BUT FOR REAL.
I AM SICK. This in an of itself is a misfortune.
HOWEVER. (catch up time) I live with 5 boys. And no, I am not talking about brothers or dads. I am talking about my 5, grown up, college boy, roommates.
Overall, I absolutely love living in a housefull of boys. There is hardly any drama, they are STILL under the impression that I can cook (I can't, but they make me feel better about that), and they also motivate me to clean...
[Side note; did you know that when boys miss the toilet, you have to clean the UNDERSIDE of the toilet!?!?! GAH. Who knew!?]
But one of the downfalls is this. It may be surprising to you, but I have an obsessions with not wearing clothes. I LOVE being stylish and having wonderful clothes, but when I am home, the pants and bra come OFF.
Now, I'm sure you can image what an uproar this would bring if I flung open the door, welcomed by a couch-full of boys drinking beer and playing Super Smash Brothers, and began to strip. NOT in the sexy way, mind you.
I believe this type of behavior would not be welcomed with open arms.
To conclude this sad little story, I have settled for locking my door, and THEN commence the pantslessness that I call my life. I feel imprisoned by my own need to not wear anything but a shirt. I can't even walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water or to start the coffee without putting on a bra. BUM. MER.
I can't think of any clever way to end this blog entry. So BYE, LAURS.
PS sorry for all the caps... I feel awkward now.