I Named My Sweater Harold

I'm only writing this in order to not fall asleep and forget to pick up my laundry. It's only Tuesday and I am dying, but hey, you won't hear me complaining (I am so complaining!).

Christmas is days away and yet I can enjoy none of it. Obviously I won't be purchasing the tree I was looking so forward to, but I am sure my parents tree will be fine (although they don't string popcorn and gum drop garland by hand like I do). I will however be naming my parents tree and have decided to christen it, (If you say it fast it sounds like Rubit-crotch-tree), in honor of my little pony, Chung. She has a B+ in English this semester and I am very proud of her.

I bought the most amazing silk-cashmere sweater at Zara on Sunday and for some reason I find myself needing to tell people about it (that, and I still have five more minutes until my clothes are dry). It's a brown cardigan, a grandpa sweater, long, and oh so soft. It's like wearing a snuggle!! I kid you not, I find myself at work think about putting on the sweater and watching some TV, that's my happy thought. I am wearing the sweater as I type and I can tell you it's like a warm soft nuzzle on my skin. All that and only $80!

Ok! My aprons are dry!

I'm treating myself to another Chung-shot! Because it's Christmas...