Sayonara Betty.

I need a rifle. And one bullet. It will not go to waste.

And then, after I do that, all the ornaments will stay on the Christmas tree.

So nevermind about the whole every day in December a new post thing. I realized swiftly that my December days are going to be pretty much groundhog days. (Even though I've never seen that movie, I'm pretty sure that I know what I'm talking about.)

I go to the Mill. I look in the refrigerator. Force of habit. There is never anything in there that I can eat, and only Tom's Sunkists to drink that I bought him for his birthday and therefore feel reticent to ask for. I do have some scruples.

Remember that tv movie "Scruples?" I feel like it was Danielle Steel.

I like that word.

I look also in the freezer.

I put on my Pepita regalia.

I bother Tom.

I think that Ray Schriener is very handsome.

I shiver and mope and gripe and ask Tom fruitlessly to turn the heat up.

I do the Drifty play.

I do the Drifty play.

I go home, turn on my space heater and bundle under my comforter. I sleep for two hours. I get up, take a shower, may or may not shave my legs as I wear slacks in Spelling Bee so ha.

I go rotate the laundry.

I press Aly's pink linen jumper. For 19 hours.

I do the Spelling Bee play.

I go home, eat a pretentious party cookie that Maggie whipped up a batch of the other night and make me feel like my name is Thelma.

I go to bed.

Repeat.

So really, I've caught you up.

Tonight I wore Disney Princess nail tips on my fingernails for the Spelling Bee. MADE MY NIGHT.

Liz Hopper has made it abundantly clear that she likes Logainne to have bizarre things on her fingernails, and this, I feel, took the cake. Not sure how I'm going to top it.

Also today Ford told me to stop my whining, gave me a bag of delicious holiday candy, and told me I should find another profession. In that order. What a gem.