Except. The barbie is flat-packed and I have it on good advice, there's a possibility that putting the thing together could potentially take somewhere in the vicinity of eight hours. Eight hours! And I'm definitely not in the mood.
Not with a funeral to attend today; cooking, shopping, tidying, chatting with Kimbles and moving boxes slated for tomorrow; and then the lunchtime funtime on Sunday. No time for assembly of and profane utterings at inanimate objects and their conceptionators in the intervening ticks of the clock.
Instead a change of menu is in order.
No pity at all.
And in the great tradition of all procrastinators, I have put off for tomorrow [figuratively] what I could've done today [or tomorrow, literally].
