Uh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Sob. Daniel and I just went to Sonic. And I had a Sunrise smoothie (or something like that.) It's a fantabulous concoction that blends all things great in this world: soft serve ice cream, orange juice, and strawberries. (They try to include bananas, but I stopped that crap dead in its tracks. Bananas. Scoff.) So I was drinking it, and I was happy. I come home, and I set it on the counter, and I keep walking. And then I hear it. The unmistakeable PLOP that comes when a Sonic Sunrise Smoothie meets its untimely end. So now it's all over my counter and my kitchen floor. And I don't have the heart to clean it up.

Actually, it's probably a sign from God that I need to clean the sty in which I've been habitating. My bedroom looks like my closet hacked up a lung, and my living room looks like a homeless person has been using my papasan chair as a shopping cart. So, maybe I should clean a little. I might even mop the kitchen floor in the hopes of not being stuck to it everytime I walk through. I can't remember the last time I mopped the kitchen. Of course, I think Jessica mopped it a couple of weeks ago, so it's really not due. Either way. Gotta get to work. Laters!