How tired? Here’s how tired: I just realized that I’m covered in red glitter, which is WEIRD. Because I don’t have anything red or glittery kicking around the house. While I like being sparkly, I am also a big fan of knowing where said sparkle came from. So I have glitter hands -- which might be the DISCO version of jazz hands – for no apparent reason.
Since it’s Friday, I should probably play the “what’s on my desk” game, because Friday is usually “clean this place up” day. Let’s see… I’ve got:
Tea that Shilo gave me
A weather station
Puffy sock monkey stickers
A note on how to care for a ring
Several sheets of paper with notes scribbled on them, none of which are exceptionally legible, and one of which only says “Hashbrowns?”; I don’t know what this was about, and I DEFINITELY wonder about the punctuation. Hashbrowns go without saying, whatever the reason. DO NOT QUESTION THE HASHBROWN.
One of those old school rulers that folds up on itself. This belongs in my tool box, but it lives on my desk because … well, I don’t know why. It’s fun to play with.
A Kohl’s flyer and coupons.
Yankee Candle oil refills
Highlighters in every colour of the rainbow – literally, pink, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. In that order. Why? Why not?
Two pink paperclips
A box of tissues
This is of course when I point an accusing, glittery finger at myself: Self, I say, your desk is a MESS.
I consider having a diva moment – glitterfingers seem to justify it – where I flounce off and announce “I can’t work in this CHAOS! I’m LEAVING!” but there’s no one to appreciate the flouncing, and I’d have to clean it later anyway. It’s not like there’s a cleaning crew in here. It’s just me.
Me and my tired, shiny fingers.
I think I’ll add a cup of coffee to the mix and see what happens.