You Can’t Make Me

I don’t feel like writing, you can’t make me.

The move is postponed (yet again). I think this Monday now. Steve (the renovating guy) says he will be out there to finish up this week. My brother plans to take the futon (which will be my thing to sit on and bed for awhile) down there tomorrow, probably. He is going to try assembling it but didn’t have much luck last time he tried. Luckily, I am a woman with my own set of tools. Where no man has gone before a woman shall triumph. (I’m sure that’s a quote somewhere).

So now you know. I’d say good night but I’m drinking coffee and you really can’t talk and swallow at the same time. However, you can type. One handed typing. My hand is on the coffee, not where you were thinking! Nasty…. nasty… nasty…

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