Pleather Doesn't Breathe

I officially just sat in my recliner for four hours. Right now my emotions are running the gamut between pretty proud of myself and pretty disappointed in myself. See, the thing is, Kelly & Macy are out of town, and I have worked until at least 10 each night this week, so I granted myself a night of television... Here is what 240 minutes of sweat inducing, cushion-creasing, legs falling asleep has taught me:
-I under no circumstances want to watch more than 10 minutes of a reality show where people want to be pirates. I know this because at 11 minutes, the I-will-watch-any-reality-show-no-matter-what curse was broken. However, please note that Hell's Kitchen 3 is already flagged on our DVR. And, I will miss you Tim Gunn.
-Get Macy Jane's flowerbed mulch and rocks from the busted asphalt at the edge of our driveway out of the Radio-Flyer... and dust off the trumpet I havent played since last century... I am officially a bandwagon member of the Cleveland Cavs NBA Championship. Wow... does Rasheed Wallace have ringworm or did he lose a bet?
-Lastly, after 14,400 entirely fruitless seconds on my rear, it is now time to blog again. I purposefully took 1 month off to ensure that I did have the desire, and reason to blog. Special thanks to all four of my known blog readers: Crull, Ashley, Mark, & Meredith.

There you have it... I am back on the blogspot... And there is a splotch of paint on my arm from a project I was working on at church today - I am going to see how long I can leave it on there before Kelly physically cleans it off herself. Any one want to speculate on how many days it will be?