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How to waste a day off

Spending this portion of the legendary day off in the Flannel Pants of Ultimate Comfort™. And after lamenting the sex-saturated culture, I've proceeded to watch "reality" dating television. Why? Because I'm an idiot.

(But this one is in Seattle, at a restaurant I've been to many times. Forgivable, no?)

One of my window blinds broke as I stumbled the house in insomniac stupor around 3:30. It now dangles diagonally, and I'm sure there's no way to get it replaced before the weekend. Oh, the hardship of domestic life.

Tasks: laundry, dishes, arranging Sunday volunteers.

Possible diversions: this silly dating show, coffee, reading, and writing at Victrola, a Tennis Pro show at Coffee Messiah this evening, or just stay in and be a lump.

Comments

Diversion: can we have a picture of the flannel pants of ultimate comfort? Fashion show!!
Now you're turning this into another silly dating show. ;)
Oh, am I? I'll take the bachelor from Seattle, Bob! ;)
You shouldn't say such things: if you have "tall, dark, muscular, movie-star good looks, southern accent" flirting with you, I can't advise a trade-in for the scruffy, unkept guy spending the day in the Flannel Pants of Ultimate Comfort™ watching television.
I suppose it all depends on how utterly shallow you think I am, Kemo.
Oh, I was just using myself as a measure of shallowness, Tonto. ;)
:P

Given that I did indeed watch an episode of The Real World: Paris in my jammies this week, I'm going to hold off on evaluating your scruffy/shallow factor.
"Who's scruffy looking?"