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<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"5:55 am: The Internet is broken at our house. There are no emails, no comments to read, no waves to surf. I put on my denim maternity dress from the SPCA Thrift Store and a sweater overtop and a pair of tights and my new boots and I get me to work, as hastily as I can, because the Internet always works there.<\/p>\n
8:30 am: At work there is other internet but my website <\/i> is not here either; it can not be found! I gnash my teeth and read the CBC website for a while but it isn’t the same, no not the same at all. Already very tired of Olympic mascots, except Mukmuk, the non-mascot. Love marmots. Love. Marmots.<\/p>\n
12:03 pm: I have grown quite used to the idea of no longer having a website. I will quit nablopomo, with a good reason!<\/i> I think, how can I blog, after all, if there is no blog to blog in! I will spend the evening watching shitty TV and not thinking up anything to blog about. Hoorah! Hoorah!<\/i><\/p>\n
5:30 pm: Home, I remove my boots (whilst sitting: aha!) and my tights as well since they are maternity tights and fit funny, as in, they don’t have enough elastic to stay up, which is nice because that way Alien doesn’t boot me when the elastic cuts into my belly but not nice because I am forever hitching my bits up and no one likes that in the office. Or on the Transit.<\/p>\n
6:00 pm: While Trombone scampers about the house clutching the remote control and dancing to Kanye West (I don’t know) I stare into the cupboards and freezer, waiting for inspiration to strike re: dinner but inspiration does not strike. What, after all, can one concoct from 8 cans of beans and a box of Arrowroot cookies?<\/p>\n
I decide I would most like a taco. There are no tacos.<\/p>\n
6:20 pm: Saint Aardvark comes home to find me barefoot, pregnant, in the kitchen and about to bake chocolate chip cookies. He takes a picture (actually rather more pictures than necessary), which gives me something to blog and now we are done.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
5:55 am: The Internet is broken at our house. There are no emails, no comments to read, no waves to surf. I put on my denim maternity dress from the SPCA Thrift Store and a sweater overtop and a pair … Continue reading