I have so much to blog and so little desire to blog about it tonight. Mainly because I'm too lazy to get up and get my camera. I am exhausted. Macy had her birthday party today and I was up til past 2:00 last night (this morning) watching Juno and chatting it up girl-style. (For those of you who were there and are wondering why I was up past 2:00 when we left Kim's house at a quarter til, it's because I get home from social functions and my brain continues to go a hundred miles a minute, replaying every word said. So I lay awake in the middle of the night willing my brain to stop working so I can FALL ASLEEP FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY!) I have a million and one pictures of Macy's party to blog about, but I'm not going to. Tonight.
Payson had his first T-Ball game Thursday night. Pure. Comedy. I have lots of pictures of him, in his florescent orange shirt and tiny white baseball pants (who knew they made such little athletic gear?) and giant batting helmet. But I'm not going to blog about it. Tonight.
I considered doing This Week in Hollywood. But I swore to myself that my next This Week in Hollywood would be positive, that I would highlight the celebrities that I truly like and admire. But I'm not feeling it. Tonight.
I'm sitting here feeling the effects of the day--no, the week--take hold and hit me like a ton of bricks. The house is silent and I'm seriously considering attacking the leftover birthday cake with a fork. No plate. But that would mean getting up off this couch. Not even birthday cake can motivate me to move right now.
As melancholy as I'm feeling, I can't find too much fault with the world right now, as today is Saturday, the dreaded week mark from when Payson got sick, the day that has been haunting me now for a week. It came, I'm fine. And I'm sure now that I said that I just completely jinxed myself into getting it. Whatever. I'm too tired to worry about it. Maybe I should just go to bed. But that would mean getting up off this couch...