You'll probably be a little jealous when I set the scene for you that will allow you to be the fly on a wall of the living room of the house in which I live. Because my home is An Equal Opportunity Television Watching Household, we are toggling back and forth between the Daytona 500 and a rerun of Bravo's Project Runway. And now, Meet the Press. And on the laptop sitting in my lap? I'm ordering and reordering and Re Ordering Again the selection of photos that will soon help Etsy customers learn all about my fabulous jewelry. Once I complete the Even More Time Consuming And Not At All My Favorite Part Of The Process, that is. Which is to write the descriptions for every single piece of jewelry I'd like to sell in My New Etsy Store Coming Soon To The Internet Near You - and make them all sound as unique and compelling as they actually are. Which I only mentioned in passing yesterday, when I first announced that I'm preparing to sell on Etsy.
Meanwhile I only remembered, for the first time in months and months, that I was gonna' ask my mom to find out through her family network if Elliott Sadler is in any way related to me. Seeing as how he's from Virginia and my maternal grandmother's maiden name was Sadler and that family hails from the Virginias. (I mean, c'mon - how many people do you know with that last name? Wouldn't it be totally cool to be related to a NASCAR dude? Especially for somebody like me who never even watched 10 minutes of a race until a year ago.) Hey Mom...want to check on that for me?
And besides that? She Who Is Most Distressed Of All By The Watching Of The NASCAR Extravaganza just walked in with a homemade cake she just made all by herself. A carrot one with raisins and pineapple chunks in the cake. With an also homemade cream cheese frosting. Yum.
Plus? Sis just called to tell me about Mr. Pie's new word. He thinks he's saying "Speed," right? 'Cause he has a new Lightening McQueen car that talks. Baby now says, "Peed!!!" With great enthusiasm.
And Boomer the Dog from down the street? Yea, Boomer came over to visit Emma The Dog. So everybody's pretty happy. (I'm fine with the visit, too, as long as Boomer's useless alarm collar thingie doesn't start going off soon... Never mind. Boomer just ate kitty food and was invited to leave.)
I can't begin to imagine that your evening could possibly be even remotely as lively and riveting as my own. No Way!