This morning I wake up and realize I don’t want to get out of bed for two reasons.
The first one; I was all snug and cozy under the covers.
In a few years, I suspect these feel good adjectives will transform into menopausal descriptors.
I might as well enjoy them now before the F word becomes the necessary preceding adverb.
The second reason I don’t want to get up is quite logistical.
I’m currently living like a refugee.
I’ve quite literally barracaded myself in the bed with clothes surrounding me on the floor.
Clean clothes that I haven’t had motivation to put away.
The morning routine involves taking these mounds of clothes and putting them onto the bed, where I lie to myself and say I will put these away and not have to worry about them.
Then, before bedtime, they end up on the floor again.
A chip off the old block, I own a lot of clothes and accessories, just like my mother.
Always dress to impress.
Every outfit deserves some carefully selected accessories.
I’m proud to say my mom taught me well.
She also taught me well enough to be tidy, so please note this current situation isn’t the result of poor upbringing, it’s the direct result of being an unmotivated slob.
Imagine if someone answered that in a job interview?
“Lidia, what would you say is your greatest weakness?”
“I’m an unmotivated slob!”
How would the interview panel like them apples?
They would enjoy theirs in a staff cafeteria.
Mine would be enjoyed at a shelter because I’d be unemployed.
We literally just stopped at Appleby and I smirk at how in sync I can be with the universe.
Back to my story, I decide to clear a path and begin to get ready for work.
I notice a peculiar new addition to my night stand.
The latest addition from Gina Jr.
Allow me to introduce to you, my new friend, Math Bunny:
Emphasis on the Bunny!!!
I don’t know about you, but I could have used a Math Bunny!!! growing up.
He could have completed all the extra times tables I had to do for being a big mouth in class.
You know how I hate to be Judgy McJudger, however, I typically dislike people who claim to be good at math.
You’ll notice these people in groups and social situations because they are the argumentative ones and pick fights for no reason.
They wait for chances to add their two cents (math?! Get it?!) and the end result is something snarky or sarcastic.
They’ve focused so much of their time being good with numbers, they haven’t evolved as social, emotionally intelligent human beings.
These are the people that won’t make a decision, but are ready to criticize after someone else has taken the lead.
Trix are for kids, uh, I mean, Bunnies!!!
What marketing potential.
Math Bunny!!! can eat everything, poop everywhere and perform complex mathematical equations.
I bet he would have been created as a last ditch effort to save the network.
Sounds like the work of TVontario.
Thankfully, our taxpayer dollars go to support, and math Bunny is not needed.
He does have many intriguing attributes.
He doesn’t have a toupee.
His hair is his alone.
His eyes look rather dialated from long nights of writing math textbooks, but his fatigue is well hidden with that wry smile.
Math Bunny!!! has at least six fingers.
I have at least six fingers.
I have a right foot that looks and feels barely attached.
Maybe if he laid off the greasy food, he would be more svelte and have more energy.
Maybe if I laid off all the greasy food, I would be more svelte and have more energy to clean my room.
Or, I’d could shift my focus and learn how to cook a rabbit.