A hot cheek on Owen's belly...

It's early afternoon and here is what I've accomplished since 9 AM:

- Figured out how to turn my laptop on in safemode (that took me nearly an 2 hours to sort out)

- Uninstalled the program that caused the whole safemode fiasco (you dont want to hear the story)

- Ate an egg and some flax (not together - don't be gross)

- Went back to bed until the phone woke me up from some creepy half-dream where I was hugging the midriff of a young man who looked an awful lot like Owen Wilson. In the dream I was his mother and I was just him asking why he didn't like me to hug him anymore when we were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Jesus, that's sad - rejected by my hot son, never to learn the reasons why. Was I too clingy? Did I embarrass him in front of his friends?

So, here I am. Half the day is gone and I haven't made good on any of the promises I made to myself before I fell asleep last night. I didn't go for a long bike ride. I didn't return my very overdue library books. I didn't unpack my wet bar and make it look nice. I didn't take any clothing up to the YMCA thrift store. I didn't clean this place from top to bottom. Annnnnnnd I haven't started writing that article that's going to earn me that pretty penny I've been eyeing. Damn.

Tomorrow! Tomorrow will be gangbusters.