So What Wednesday

Linking up with Mrs. Dew at Life After I "Dew" to say SO WHAT!

So WHAT if...

• I'm undefeated in the arguments I have with people...in my head? I use logic and reason and they have nothing to say back.
• I'm on a blogging role this week? Sometimes, the mood just strikes you and you can't help it.
• Even though I complained about the fact that DC doesn't exactly have winter weather, I'm not complaining that I just walked into work without anything more than a sweater? I dig the mild weather since I can only imagine how quickly it would get grey and ugly here with snow.
• I totally complain about my glasses rub my headband? It jolts my vision, and me being me, I think I'm having a mini-seizure before realizing what is going on.
• I am still talking to THAT ex? Yeah. I know. I know. But sometimes I get to exact my passive aggressive revenge via reply texts. It's the little things, my friends. That, I actually have pity for the kid when he admits that there's "no need to be in Denver anymore". Yeah. That's because he doesn't have me there. Boom.
• I am congratulating myself and cursing myself for being so clever with my Christmas gifts? It's something special to DC and breakable, so naturally now I have to transport them with me to Denver on the plane. There goes my carry-on space.
• I wish that Pandora would play more boy band Christmas music? C'mon. You know you sing along with "Merry Christmas Happy Holidays" with JT, JC, Joey, Lance, and Chris.
• So what if I had to google that random last member of *NSYNC? Admit it. You forgot the dread head's name, too.
• I have one heck of a laundry list of to-do's for the new year? Find a place to live, ship my furniture and remaining home goods, give up all my old court stuff, become legit in the new court, and work in two offices.
• I may or may not be able to rival those "bump" pictures of you preggo eggos out there? THIS IS NOT A PREGNANCY NOTICE, but rather, I have enough Beyonce to mimic and confuse the hell out of people at formal events when I order hard alcohol and rub my belly. A parlor trick that is not for getting or keeping a boyfriend, but seriously hysterical.