moccasins/cardi: target; dress/belt: panache (from 2ish years ago); purse: lucky
david and i live next to a ballroom and below a dance studio. despite the noise, we still like our little 100-year old main street apartment quite a bit. the other night, though, a swim team rented out the ballroom for a party, and some little jerk dumped sprite all over our car! it froze into this sticky, sludgy mess. david went to drive somewhere and had to scrape it off the windshield and he was ticked. so i ran it through the car wash the next day, which was nice. i enjoy the car wash. but still. keep your friggin' sprite away from our car.
also, lately the teenage kids who take ballroom dancing classes in the building have taken to standing around in the hallway where the apartments are and talking...loudly. nothing gets me more irate. when i close the store after a long day and haul myself up the stairs to my apartment (really, when i'm this big, i grab the banister and haul...it's neither pretty nor glamorous), the last thing i want to do is listen to a bunch of kids playing tickle-bottom right outside my door. i've asked them to leave a couple times (they're really not allowed there), but i always kind of hate myself inside because i'm turning into someone teenage brandilyn would have hated. i know i would have rolled my eyes and said something along the lines of, "what's her problem?"
my problem, homegirl, is that i want to eat my dinner and play a game of yahtzee with my husband in peace!
see? i've turned into grumpy pregnant lady.