Does My Mother Count As "My Public"?

Does anyone remember that post I wrote mentioning that I was moving and would be without Internet and unable to post anything for like a week? Yeah, me either, but I do vaguely remember saying something like that. I guess my mother missed that post because she posted this on my Facebook wall today:

Your public grows impatient for the new blog.

First, I had no idea I had a public. Second, I guess this means I should get some "people" so I can have them contact your people. Or perhaps my people could unpack for me...and blog for me...and cook for me...Really if I could just get my people to do everything except sleep for me that would be great.

This just in: I'm taking applications for "people". If you are interested in mundane work for no pay, send your resumes to my inbox. I'll have my people get back to you.

In the meantime, I'll show you what my people have been up to.

They bought a house. They couldn't be bothered to put sheets on the two twin mattresses they pushed together so I could sleep there. As a side note, they didn't bother to make sure the mattresses were the same height either. Where is the King when you need him? It's so hard to get good people.

Hey look, it's my new living room sans proper furniture. However, underneath that blanket is one hairless husband. Hey, why am I up taking pictures while he's sleeping? Shouldn't he be working? It might be time for a fresh waxing to remind him who is boss.

My time away from the Internet was exceptionally hard on me. There was sackcloth and ashes... and I might have openly wept at Barnes and Nobles when their free WiFi kicked in on my Touch. Sweet, sweet Twitter, I have missed you.

While I feel that my time could have been better spent obsessively checking my Facebook, Twitter, Blog and current Buffalo Bills news, the local Internet provider disagreed and didn't show up until this week. While I waited for my precious Internet, I set up my bed room. You can ooh and aah at my lack of curtains/bedskirt. Whatever, who needs those things when you have six extra bedspreads laying around your bedroom floor? I'm calling it "Clutter Chic" and it's awesome.

I'm so together I got Mallory's room put together too. I rock that way. I can accomplish in just a few days that which takes mere mortals hours upon hours.

I even baked a cake for Mallory's birthday today. It's sitting there cooling on the counter. Yes, all my dishes are done. (And yes, the cake and icing are both pink. What do you expect? She's  turning six.)

You are free to be super impressed by me. I know I am.

 Oh wait, stop, don't look in there.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. Or his spectacular photography skills.

That's better. Now no one can see my mess the "Clutter Chic" motif that I've decorated my new garage with.

And just so you don't think I forgot about "the list" this picture is proof that I'm letting myself go. Note the unwashed hair under the dirty hat. Also the unplucked eyebrows that are so out of control I had to use styling gel to keep them from hanging in my eyes. Finally, the piece de resistance, a cold sore on my lip. I'm a hot mess. YES! GOAL ACHIEVED.

Don't be jealous of my hotness. A lot of Doritos and stress went into this look.