It’s 4:49 on a Wednesday. For about 2o minutes I thought it was actually Tuesday, but no. I was wrong.  You know it is Wednesday because you started the strategic countdown to your weekend on Monday at around 8:55am. I’d love to be able to tell you that I have riveting things to share with you.  For instance, if I had come up with the meaning of life, that would probably be an interesting thing to share. Nope. I don’t have that for you.

What I can tell you is that my friend has, in a very subtle way, hinted that just because they are sparkly, gold, quilted and sequined booty shorts, that they are not necessarily the festive look she was inviting for Thanksgiving. I can respect that–  particularly since I’m uncertain if all of my booty would fit into them. Also, I think the gut overhang would sort of kill the look. Nah, you’re right. Nothing could kill this look.

So, as you are despairing about your work day think to yourself, “Whew… at least I’m not forced to wear those shorts.”  Then go grab a glass of wine and think to yourself, “I can’t wait to see Dating in LA and Other Urban Myths on my television.”

I may already be doing that.