We were up and at 'em (Wait, is it up and at 'em or up and Adam? If it's the latter, who the fuck is Adam? Is it Adam Levine? It's probably Adam Levine. Regardless, us bitches are outta bed.) before eight o'clock on this glorious day of not work because a trio of lesbians are coming over this afternoon to join B and I in the consumption of champagne and absolutely-not-turkey (I think we're having salmon) and we're not at all prepared.
Because I can't cook I've been relegated to cleaning duty. If you happen to be our downstairs neighbor, that ungodly banging noise is our busted-ass Roomba trying to get out of the bathroom. Sorry. He'll be done soon.
In addition to my role as Head Cleaner I nominated me for DJ of Today. Since nobody else voted I've signed an executive order that grants me the power to play Bea Miller's "brand new eyes" on a loop until our guests arrive. It's the theme song to Wonder which we saw yesterday. It was bien.
Also, as a special treat to myself I lit every scented candle we own and am pretending that my dance-cleaning is happening in a gingerbread house.
Lastly, today's the first day that I'm allowed to drink since my insurance company paid a stranger good money to cut half my face off last week. If my own personal bottle of Sauvy B. isn't a reason to be thankful, what is?