Catfeination

Saturday I woke up all ready and rarin’ to go on the garden project until I got a look outside. Drizzle drizzle drizzle. All morning I could here it half heartedly shlopping rain onto the house. 9 am, drizzle drizzle. 10 am, drizzle drizzle. 11 am, drizzle drizzle. It couldn’t even get up the energy to get a good storm going so instead it spat listless annoyance from the sky the entire day.

Fine.

I reject your weather reality and substitute my total embracing of the idea of slackluster. Give me a stinky weather day will you? Two can play this game and believe you me, you do not even come close to lazy as I can define it. Take that, you weather you!

My defiance of the weather was carried out by staying in and ignoring both “outside” and “weather” to level up my Horde character to 40. Yes, I played an entire Saturday of WoW(the game) and I have no regrets. It was that narst out. I even managed to totally forget that it was all emo rain jagging and had a really good time burbling around in game. 40 is a pretty awesome level in WoW (the game) so like a dork I boogered around with my new level 40 toys. Best. Saturday. Ever.

Sunday I have no real excuse for. Possibly my excuse was that I was scraping the bottom of the unders barrel so the entire day was devoted to laundry. Mostly, my excuse was that I didn’t want to do anything and since it worked out so well the day before I decided to give it another go. I’m not sure Sunday’s day of ultimate sloth was as perfect as Saturday’s day but I did get a lot of laundry done and a lot of Warcrafting done at the same time. Truly, what goes better with laundry (other than napping, which still reigns supreme) than Warcraft? Nothing I tell you! Nothing. Besides, I was feeling very magnanimous of Warcraft spirit and spent a good deal of time helping other people out. You know…with my new level 40 toys and all.

Heh.

I also went shopping on one of those days (I! Got out of the house! And it wasn’t on fire!) and took the opportunity to browse through the unders section. I think I have been chucking my scraggly unders in the trash to the point that I actually ran low between washings. I never run out of unders. I must have about three bazillion pairs of unders yet I was down to my last four pairs. I can’t remember the last time I saw the bottom of my unders drawer but this weekend you would swear I was Old Mother Hubbard. Except with unders. Which I wasn’t planning on feeding to my dog that I don’t have.

Anyway. So y’all don’t think I have this dark unders buying problem – well, OK I sort of do but not like that – here’s my real problem. My vast quantitude of unders is a result of my fruitless search for the perfect brand of comfy unders. Oh, I have lots of unders so shy they’ll zip up your butt to hide, or unders that bite along the seam, or unders that sit too high or too low or too left or too right or dig here or gap there. You name the underwear fitting problem and I probably own a pair that does exactly that. Hate.

In general I dislike clothing shopping but unders are particularly frustrating. You can’t try them on, either (not that I’m complaining because EW!) so I usually just buy one pack to see if they are the perfect style. When they aren’t, I add another 2 to 4 crappy unders to the pile. When they are, I go back for more which they never have because they are either sold out or discontinued. Thus, I only ever have about ten out of seven million unders that I like because I feel weird tossing a newly purchased pair of unders in the trash. I keep the rejects around and wear them on days when I think I’m most likely to rend my garments in twain or possibly spontaneously burst on fire. Ruined unders are perfectly fine to throw out.

I don’t even want to talk about bras because bra shopping sucks more than unders shopping by about ten fold. Actually, there is something I’d like to mention about bra shopping: You bra manufacturers are not endearing yourselves to ladies who do not fit your bra sizing charts. Just the other day I saw this teeny tiny woman who couldn’t have been more than a 34 but was packing at least a double D cup. According to everywhere bra place I’ve looked, she doesn’t exist. Neither does a scarcely endowed gal who happens to be a tad barrel chested. Nope. The entire human race grows proportionally!

I did wind up picking up two different styles of unders to try out. We shall see if I’ve struck unders gold or have just added to the unders crap pile.

Lastly, we found out that Isaak likes a mixed bland of Zumatra and Highlander Grogg coffee with one packet of sugar. I would have never guessed that any cat would enjoy coffee but he stuck his cat head right into my mug and lapped up my coffee. I never check the dead soldier mugs for traces of cat tongue…I wonder if his new interest in coffee is in any way connected with his cat pattern balding?


Last year at the booniverse: They didn’t make an update in my size.


Last last year at the booniverse: Today I have pleased the Gods of Break Room Snacks and they have provided me with a muffin AND lemon bars. Praise be to the great and wonderful Gods of Mooch Food!


The year before at the booniverse: Part puppy, part cat; all I would need is a glow the dark butt and I could amuse myself for hours!

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