I had a dream this evening that everytime I was near Jude Law I orgasmed. Like, if we were in the same room, I was one happy girl.
Hell, I'm one happy girl just thinking about that dream. It's dreams like that that prompt women to lounge around in bed all day. Hell, if I had more dreams like that I'd never get anything accomplished. And I'd be totally fine with that.
Can we say "sexually frustrated?" Ack.
In other news, I'm driving around a big-ass boat of a car right now. Rexy is in the shop, finally getting the repairs done from when it was hit about a month ago. Finally! Talk about cutting it close--the repair shop will be done on Wednesday; I leave Thursday morning for Christy's wedding. Until then I'm driving around a loaner car. It just happens to be a huge Buick. I feel like I'm a 67-year-old man in it. It rocks.
It's sad when all I have to talk about are orgasmic dreams and cars. Have I turned into a guy? Double ack.
Ciao, dahling!
~*Krissy*~