FUTZUS PREMATURIS

I awoke with the happy thought that today was Futzingday (*). 

"Woo Hoo!" I bellowed, as I hopped out of the big girl sleigh bed.  "A whole day of Futzing is to be had by all!".

This was right about the point that Stewey poked his nose out from under the t-shirt sheets and Woolrich blanket to inform me that today is, in fact, Tuesday, and NOT Futzingday.

Crap.

So I'm going to head to an appointment and then come home and start the festivities early.  I'm jonesing for a studio day, and if I can manage to get the motivation to do more than stare at the walls, I might actually make it up there to rummage through my stash for some fun things for the basket.

The basket, sadly, has been empty for quite some time now, so methinks a little rummage might be just what the doctor ordered.

So Happy Futzingday Eve, everybody!  What are you going to do to celebrate?

(*) Futzingay is nothing more than Wednesday, kids.  I named it thusly because I have a propensity to do absolutely nothing but futz on Wednesdays.  So I figured that an official day to do so each week would make me feel less like a slacker and more like a traditionalist.