True Confessions.

Things I do when my husband is away:

(1) Bake up an entire bag of Ore Ida Tater Tots and eat them, and only them, for dinner three nights in a row.

(2) Watch "Sixteen Candles" and other John Hughes films over and over again. I'm on my fourth viewing of the Breakfast Club since CPT Dick left. (Exception to Rule: "Pretty in Pink." But you already know how I feel about that one. Why did you have to pick Blane over Duckie, Andy? Why, Andy, WHY?!)

(3) Make an appointment to get my hair cut off. I'm scheduled for next week and I'm thinking at least 8 inches have to go. I'm tempted to go for a crewcut now that my son is so enamored with using my hair as a climbing rope.

(4) Go through my husband's closet and throw out his old, nasty t-shirts. The man is a military officer, for Christ's sake. There's no reason why he should still own a Phish tie-dye, let alone one with a bong on the front, large, gaping holes in the back and serious pit discoloration. And there can be absolutely no justification for the fact that he puts it on whenever he finds it in the bottom of his drawer and prances about. The rag has got to go.

(5) Play my N*SYNC discs. Loud. Often. And in front of my son.

(6) Clean the kitchen only *once* a day. Amazing, no?

Sometimes, it's nice to have some alone time. Now if only I could find my muse and get some actual paying writing done.