I know, I promised, so here's the story (short version, because even I'm tired of the details): I impulsively resigned from my job and failed to look for a new one. I moved out of my apartment and in with some friends who were nice enough to take me in for a bit. I decided to go home for a bit to recoup and psyche myself up for looking for a new place (again), moving (again), and finding a new job. Yippee.
Perhaps my lack of enthusiasm is apparent? It's okay, that's just the PMS talking. I'll feel better in a few days. Boy, is Michael lucky he doesn't have to be stuck on a plane for 10 hours with me when I'm in this sort of mood. By Wednesday, when we depart, I should be back to a (somewhat*) normal state.
Michael finds it amusing to proclaim that he is taking a visit to Munchkinland. Apparently this is reference to my (and my relatives') stature or lack thereof. I warned him that my dad has a bb gun but he's unrepentant and in defense of my family's and the entire state of RI's size issues I am going to resort to underhanded smear tactics.
How seriously can you take a man who snuggles with a pink blankie??
This is the Jessica for Prezedent campaign and I approve this message.
For the record, this is totally not a staged photo in which I put Michael up to snuggling with my speshul pink stripey blankie that Sarah made me and then took a picture of him when he wasn't looking.
Also: Isn't he cute?
* Since normal is not a word that is used often to describe me at any time of the month.