At least I'm not barefoot and pregnant

Why I decide to write a blog post when I have shit to do is beyond me. If ever I was to drop dead from a stress-related heart attack, it would be tonight because I have to 1.) finish translating copy for a Web site (something I've never done before, much less for legitimate business people who are paying me money to do it) AND 2.) cook an elaborate breakfast of three kinds of breakfast tacos and mixed fruits with plain yogurt and peach cobbler for 30 people at my place of work. Why, you ask would I volunteer to do such a thing? I'll tell ya:

- I'm a chump.
- I'm an asshole chump whose review is coming up and thought I'd kiss corporate ass with some ethnic cooking.

On top of this all, the boys in my house are conveniently MIA this evening. One's bowling and the other is at a Mavericks game. There's nothing like inadvertently acting out the very stereotypes we abhor, boys out doing sports stuff and the woman at home cooking and being brainy.

With the boys gone, I have no one but my damn self to send to the store to replace the tiny breakfast muffins that were eaten between last night and this afternoon, WHICH I might add were not intended for the boys to eat.

They are like animals, these boys.