Guess who had to answer the door when Steve-Brady-Will-Hunting the Rodenticide man came persistantly a knockin' to check our glue traps at 9:30 this morning?
Me. The best part is what I got to wear: My XL-one-size-fits-all Titanic t-shirt circa 6th grade, my XL men's sweatpants with the saggy inseam and elastics at the bottom, my fleece Laura Ashley robe from BJ's and my dirty glasses. Luckily I had woken up two minutes before he came, so I had already removed the retainers.
There was nothing in the glue traps, thank the Lord.
Last night I had a dream in which everyone was playing a huge game of Shout About Movies in a movie theater, and then afterward Natale, Liz, Natalie, my cousin Celine and my sister were sitting around my fireplace listening to Kristina and I complain about literally everything when my dad interrupted us by telling us to get on the commuter rail because we were all going to Neiman Marcus for dinner, so Natale ran inside my coat closet and emerged awhile later in a completely different, dinner appropriate outfit.
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