Lay Flat to Dry

Who came up with "lay flat to dry"?  What kind of Martha-Stewart-Living freak imagines we all live in gigantic, airy houses with marble-clad bathrooms upon which we lay our $15 sweaters and $25 dresses flat to dry after hand-washing them in dedicated hand-wash basins, clearly with only the finest detergent Wal Mart has to offer?

I have a dress - a long dress - that's "lay flat to dry".  Right now it's hanging over the balustrade to my loft, approximately one-third of it on the roughly hewn wood, and the rest hanging off.  Sorry, label.  I just don't dry my dresses on my dining room table.

Out of Touch

I feel silly for asking, but how do all these women - who quit jobs as kindergarten teachers to become famous on Instagram for their bodacious rear ends - MAKE this money?  Can you monetize an Instagram?  It simply doesn't make sense to me - I've been blogging for years and I have earned $11 so far.  You think I'm joking!

If I were gorgeous and skinny, I'd so consider it though.  To be a millionaire just by taking selfies of my bum...it's tempting.

Does that make me a bad person?  Nah.  Just a broke, desperate grad student.

Cheat day

Spending today with football, novels, and cooking.  I have to snatch these days from life otherwise I'll go completely insane.  I need to be good and edit photos as well, but I'll do that while I'm watching Masterpiece tonight.

Two words: salmon cakes.

Exhausted

In spirit, in body, in soul.  I really don't know what to do about it.  Having today a quiet day, managed to get some work done but not nearly enough.  Wish I could bail on the department get-together tonight but I really can't.  I just want to get into my pinnie and paint and paint and paint without having to worry about how dirty I'm getting or being on time for anything.

I need to find some spirit. 

Sick

I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired!

Just one word of advice:

Don't trust the blondes!

Sigh by night

So terribly tired!!  Been a long week, and I'm going out tonight.

But come tomorrow all I have to do is chores and laundry, and I can do them all at home - glorious, warm home!

(This apartment is still imperfect.  Particularly since the hot water heater still sucks and my best showers are warmish to put it kindly.  But it's much homier than work.)

And tonight, I will curl up in bed and sigh. 
Not cry.
Just sigh.
And look upon the starry night and dream of warm, cuddly clouds on which to sleep.
And admire the sparkling stars forming tiaras for the heavens.
And turn over and smile and drift away.