Good morning, world. The skies are clear and bright, and I’m trying to decide what I feel like. I don’t know what the everloving fuck happened in the backyard last night, but a birdhouse was destroyed.
The birthday party went ok. We had everything we needed, so there were no further emergency trips out for extra ingredients. Chaucer slunk into Mom and Brian’s bedroom as soon as Brian’s uncle showed up, and stayed there until everyone left. The uncle had asked Mom if he could bring anything, and Mom told him he could bring a 6-pack of soda. Well, these people will only drink soda out of cans, and full-size cans only come in cases of 12, so what does he do? He bought a case, opened it, and gave us a bag of six cans of Coke.
There was almost a meltdown because Mom didn’t use the extra fancy casserole dish that her friend gave her. It was rather bizarre and sad. It’s a fucking lasagna, and just because it’s not a ultra-deep one doesn’t mean we don’t like your fucking pan.
I tried to spin last night. The playlist energy was not good at all. Things were bad enough that I went into the flow playlist this morning and removed about 60 songs.
There was also a toad with a fucking death wish. I eventually went inside when my phone overheated and stopped recording for the fourth time.
I wonder what happened to the birdhouse. Maybe it was the birds wanting a bigger house and will rebuild it with a second level on it. Because they had more kids or something!
I think there must have been a storm overnight that blew it around. It wasn’t in great condition lately, it was only a matter of time.
Time for a new one!