Finally over! That deserves a royal high-five!

Ah, so I sit here on my hand-me-down couch in silence, going over the day and thinking about how it’s nearly midnight and I could sleep… quite possibly for the next 12 years. I know I’m only 25, but this getting old thing is… well, getting old. I blame it on the weather, the the lack of consistency, the sloppy thick mucus that has taken my lungs hostage. One minute a nude, bathing gentleman in a tub is flying by our windows (a horrible Oz reference) and we’re ducking swirly tornados, the next I’m stripping down to my undershirt in the sun during my hour lunch break. In one day I saw snow, hail, rain and very warm sunny skies. Tonight, the temp is dropping back down to 35˚F. Tomorrow? 70˚F. Anyhow, enough whining about weather. I should be grateful to live in a place with four seasons, right? It makes the anticipation of each rather exciting. Except winter. Winter feels like death.

Oh wait. I have more whining. This royal wedding business. It’s over, right? Does this mean I can go back to my empty, soulless life–living without heart-shaped, jelly-filled donuts from Dunkin, flamboyant grocery-store cakes with the faces of the the royal couple, and the sparse (but still too many) British flags flying about in the neighborhood? I just don’t get it. It’s America, people. Don’t we have something better to do at 4 in the morning? Sleep, maybe?

Wow. I’m a total crankpot this evening. To be fair, all I request is a Snickers and a Midol. (Maybs one of those Reester Bunnies!)

Please, tell me you’ve heard of the Reester Bunny. Happy weekend!