Morning Fuzz

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“Wake me up! Before you go go. Don’t leave me hangin’ on like a yo yo.” Wonderful lollipop images of George Michael danced in my head.

Chinese Proverb: A rat who gnaws at a cat's tail invites destruction.

To think that all the signs were there, the perfect l’oreal hair, the short shorts and green fluorescent gloves, you know the ones with the fingers cut off. Of course, he was on the other team. It just got so confusing as a teenager. Between Ozzy and Motley Crue, they wore more makeup than Tammy Fay Baker meanwhile shouting at the devil. How was I to know?

Anyway, before I go further on the eighties tangent, that is what I woke up to this morning. I had to peel myself out of bed to that oh so catchy tune! Shane, on the otherhand, is another story. He languidly pressed the alarm to snooze. We were out last night getting a spoonful of Cinco de Mayonnaise. I seem to remember him harangueing about working a double the next day. My drinking just equals to selective hearing. I mean it's not like fiancee's don't put us on mute either?

Here he is fifteen minutes prior to starting his day and he’s already groaning about it. Sure, I sit pretty in an office, but Shane really busts his balls. Working with his hands and on his feet all day. Laborious. I will never take him for granted. I gently tried to cheer him up. I stood over him brushing my teeth in my full bottom undies shaking my butt in his face to some crappy pop song that was playing on M"poop"TV. He escaped my hyperactive seizure by turning over.

I could not escape our bedroom. It's carpeted with clothes from my daily morning outfit tangents. These slacks don’t go with this shirt. This shirt makes me look fat! Off and away that shirt goes into reject neverland a.k.a. bedroom floor. I decide to do a weather check which forecasts for rain. Off with my white slacks and on with black slacks, yes that means the cycle starts all over. New blouse with what shoes? The circle of vanity builds high until the bedroom floor is just a conundrum of laundry.

There my desk sits covered with documents, wine glasses, sixteen ounce water bottles. The computer is beautifully dressed in a film of dust. The Ipod that I dearly wanted is sitting in it’s pretty box from three weeks ago. Funny? The word maid or cleaning woman keeps popping into my head.

This is Shellie from the bottom of her fresh clean laundry scrambling to find the best outfit to my laziness.

P.S. In a few days, I will be addressing the wedding plans so get ready to here my gripes or my relief.