Beer

It's that time of day.

Beer time.

The time that I am exhausted from running around getting stuff done (why does it seem like I spend so much time doing stuff, but when I sit down, it looks like there was more TIME spent then WORK done?).

So yeah, I'll be that mom in my almost mumu (it was brought back from some other country by my neighbor.  and it's damn comfortable.) drinking my beer a hair shy of proper cocktail hour.

I almost have this delousion that I'd rather be that sterotyped image of the 50's housewife who does her look daily as a routine as well as have a clean house, cooked dinner and the husband who walks in the door to the joy of this home life the wife created.

And then, I say fuck that.  I like being able to hold myself accountable and not feel that serving the (super awesome) husband is not my top priority.

So again, BEER TIME!