genius.

I like to think of myself as someone with at least, above average intelligence. Except when I'm trying to print something off, and it just won't work, and I'm about to throw the printer across the room...Then Dave comes in to inspect the commotion and notices that I'm trying to connect to the wrong printer. I don't want to talk about it.

But then I have instances such as last night - when my feet were freezing, but socks were all the way across our cold, cold room. So I improvised, by putting my feet in the sleeves of a discarded hoodie at my bedside. I totally redeemed myself....Or my laziness/hatred of cold has seeped in to every possible aspect of my living being.

Later I wondered if I had to get up in a hurry, would I have remembered my feet were occupied in a self made booby trap?