Free Time with Options

The Institute Class that I teach is out for the summer. Last week, at this very moment, I was hunkered down with books and scriptures and larning stuff. For the next few months, on Mondays, I'm free, I'm free, I'm free. On Monday and Tuesday morning at least. So I'm trying to decide what I might do with the extra time since I'm free I'm free I'm free.

Option #1:

Sleep. I wanted to put a great picture here, of a beautiful woman who looks exactly like me, with her hair splayed out all over the pillow in a cinderella fashion, long lashes brushing against the cheek of pinkish hue. However the only sleep pictures I could find I had to pay for. And I'm not paying for this blog to continue.

Option #2:

Learn more about these two.

OK. Settle down, I'm kidding. I was at the foot Dr. this morning and they were in a magazine. I had forgotten they existed. These two girls scare me. Now that I look at them starring at me from my blog, I'm questioning whether or not I want to taint my blogosphere with them. Someone give them a t-shirt, would you? And a mirror. And a makeup remover towelette. And some shampoo. And a comb. And a snack.

Option#3:

Continue my bulemic shopping for a Mother of the Groom Costume for the wedding. I buy, I return. I buy, I return. I buy, I return. I've done it with jackets, skirts, tanks, shoes, earrings, you name it, I've done it. I've purchased and regurgitated. Upstairs in my room I have two pairs of the exact same shoe. My dresser has 4 pairs of shoes on it, all auditioning themselves for me, as if they were in the shoe department of the store. Pick me! Pick me! I'm not sure if the internet and free shipping has made my life easier or more complicated.

Option #4:

Plant more purple flowers. There are zillions. They are multiplying at night when I sleep (looking like Cinderella with pinkish hue). Last week I wrapped my broken foot in a walmart bag and went out in the rain and planted almost 5 dozen. Didn't make a dent. Cue sad violins. Or white trash music. You choose. This is how I felt planting and dragging around the Walmart bag on my foot:

Option #5

Figure out how to tell the bride and groom that since seeing the foot Dr. this morning I found out I might be dragging my honkin' booty-cast and 1 really nice shoe (not sure which one yet, but it will be only one) to their wedding. If it rains, I may double bag. More white trash music. Crank up the volume. And hand me that pencil so I can black out my front tooth.

Think pinkish hue

P. S. I apologize for having the Olsen twins and Andrew Wyeth in the same blog post.