I wrote you a fabulous piece earlier this morning, an ode to the death of my Conair Infinity Hair Designer, which I loved dearly.  It was a piece detailing our torrid love affair which, like most torrid love affairs, burned out too quickly.  Literally.  As in, the heating element is officially dead.

But my site ate it.  You’ve been deprived of an amazing piece of literature, my friends.  Damn the internet gypsies.

This morning was unexpectedly laid back.  My morning meeting was cancelled (which, had I known on Sunday, would’ve allowed me a full extra hour of sleep.. que c’era), so I’ve been leisurely running work errands.  I filled my Brita pitcher, I got my week’s calendar in order, and I called Conair about replacing my Infinity Hair Designer. (Which they would not do.  BASTARDS.)

The heat index all week is supposed to be around 105 degrees.  That sucks big ole donkey balls.

It’s very weird, at times, to not be involved in a show.  Right now is one of those times.  I feel like I’m at home too much, like I should be out spreading myself too thin.  Of course, when I feel like that, I just take a nap.

I’m in a torn place right now about my life.  Bryan asked me last night what I want to do with my life. (I think he was trying to make conversation since I turned the tv off.) I said, “I’ve got to get my degree.  I can’t do anything else until I do that.”  Which is true.. but it’s also kind of a cop-out.  I don’t have a plan for post-degree.. so I can hide behind my lack of it in the meantime.  Honestly?  I wouldn’t mind cleaning houses for a living.  Or being a professional organizer.  I could totally rock out that profession.  And it would allow time home with the baby, which is this new and impending requirement I suddenly have.

Just random thoughts on a Monday, inspired by the post you never saw.