I Hurt.

My heart hurts because my team lost the Superbowl (We’ll get ’em next year, boys!).

My fingers hurt because I spent too many days attached to my hook last week (which means I’ve got to take it easy on the creating things this week).

 

too much of a good thing

 

My brain hurts because Christina Aguilera doesn’t know the words to the national anthem.

 

"Boom, boom, something about rockets, right?"

 

 

My sensibilities hurt because, honestly, WHAT THE HECK was with that half-time show? No wonder the rest of the world thinks Americans are idiots…

 

If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it must be an alien-friendly halftime show! (Srsly, guys. Glow in the dark body suits? Really?)

 

My belly hurts because I ate too much delicious, delicious chili yesterday.

AAND my hometown pride hurts because apparently when your team loses the Superbowl (even though you’ve already won SIX), the appropriate thing to do is set your couch on fire. Classy, Pittsburgh.  I wish I was there to knock some sense into you.

 

Yinzers are really, REALLY good sports.

So, to recover from all of this hurting, I’m going to spend the day napping and grooming while Nina does the laundry, cleans the house, fills the prescriptions, does the mending, and preps for work this week.

 

This is what doing chores looks like.

 

 

 

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