If I don't get up and outside the apartment by a certain time I am inevitably sucked into a black hole of sloth. I fully intended on getting multiple errands done before I jet off to Mardi Gras this evening but no... the siren call of compulsive Facebook refreshing and painfully bad VH1 dating shows could not be ignored. So I continued my sick and emotionally abusive Doctor Who relationship where I was abandoned YET AGAIN by a favorite character. Maybe now that I'm in a delicate state I'll venture out to sooth my ravaged feelings with a new pair of sunglasses? No, not when there's plenty of couch cushions to sit on and clothing to NOT be packed for your upcoming flight.
Also, what does it say about me that my favorite part of going to the airport is that there's always hot soldiers there?