Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Sick rhymes with Ick.

I am sick. and I freaking hate it. I'm pretty sure Lady of the Wine's sister in law', guest blogger, and my very dear friend Courtney's, kid gave it to me. Thanks Paige, you little jerk. Just kidding. I love her, but she did have her sickly teeny baby hands in my mouth for a good 5 minutes. After being on an airplane. I feel nauseous. But seriously. I effing hate being sick. My whole body hurts and I turn into a sweaty puddle of self loathing girl goo. I also cry easily. Like super easily. My husband takes full advantage and can reduce me to tears with a series of pokes. My dogs can also sense my weakness. Just last night Indi, my 50 ish lb boxer, stood on my chest and unleashed one million kisses, and about a liter of drool, onto my face. Not cool Dog, not cool. It also makes me completely useless. I have missed three days of work the past 8 working days, and haven't written a stitch. Not my fault though. The characters in my WIP have stopped whispering to me so I've moved onto my other one. A delightful tale of a girl who finds Mr. Right when she's about to marry the other Mr. Right. A far cry from my previous baby, a ghost story, but this one will steam up the windows. Yes that's right. It's going to have sex in it. Good sex. Completely unrealistic, doens't-actually-occur-outside-of-hollywood. vase breaking sex. My only issue is every time I start writing the sexy time I imagine my Mother, Mother in Law, and grandmothers sipping tea, reading it together. Instant buzz kill. Obviously. I now resort to writing my sex scenes slightly drunk while vampire diaries plays on repeat. Ian Somerhalder..or however you spell his last name...is disgustingly attractive. He's on my list of people I can bone whilst still married. Matts list contains Kathy Bates, Rosie O'Donnel, Rosanne, and Rihanna.
Any who. I  have to work now. If you're in the Greater Calgary Area come on in for a spray tan :)

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