So my parents called me like 10 times tonight and I was like, holy crap, who died? I seriously did think someone had died. So I called back and it turns out, I was ALMOST right. My dad wanted to tell me they did a new will and I'm the executor and here's what everyone gets in case they die and please don't let Stephanie (my little sister) spend it on that piece-of-shit boyfriend and please make sure Marc (my little brother) finishes college.
I KNOW! MORBID!!! And they wonder where I get my neuroses.
OK, seriously, no one is dying. No one is close to dying. My dad isn't even retired yet. This is just my parents deciding to be prepared. And, you know, trying to freak me out. So I responded by asking my dad if he had any special requests for his funeral. His answer: "What the hell do I care? I'll be dead!"
Ahhhh. This story explains so much about me, you have no idea.
Other quick bites of randomy goodness:
* I had to shut all the windows and wrap myself up in a blanket because it was FREEZING in my apartment when I got home. And by freezing, I mean the thermostat read 69 degrees. That alone should tell you how much I'm looking forward to winter.
* My back hurts. My neck hurts. Even my calves hurt. I want a massage soooo bad.
* They don't hurt because I've been working out, though. Ohhhh, no. I have been the biggest workout slacker who ever slacked lately. I used to never skip, and now all I DO is skip. Skip, skip, skip. And not to my lou. To my loo, maybe (after detouring to the fridge), but not to my lou.
* I think something in my freezer smells, but I have no idea what and I'm not really inclined to find out.
* Wait ... how does frozen stuff smell? Doesn't the fact that it's frozen ...?
Never mind. I should just go to bed.