So you should all be proud to know that I bought a new battery and replaced the fire alarm to its place of honor on my ceiling earlier tonight.
I was talking to my mom last night and I said "I need a boyfriend to do things like this for me." But the thing is, in the last month, I've declogged a sink, replaced a battery in a fire alarm, replaced my windshield wiper blades...all things I previously would have nudged a boyfriend in my life to do (and by nudged I mean stomped my foot like a 5 year old until it happened). Granted, I did get a wicked sunburn this weekend because I was incapable of applying sunscreen successfully to my own back, but some things are just out of my control.
It's nice to know that I might want a boyfriend to do these things, but I don't need one.
But lest you think I'm really smart, I'll leave you with this...I baked a cinnamon struesel bread tonight for a breakfast party tomorrow, and upon taking it out of the 375 degree oven, I ran a knife around the outside of the bread to loosen it from the pan. I then chose to put said knife in my mouth to lick off the struesel. The 375 degree knife.
Tongue? Burned.
Self? Functionally retarded.
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