Coming Out from Under the Boardwalk

   So you know how there are those times when the terms ‘wrung out sponge’ or ‘limp noodle’ just don’t begin to cover how you’re feeling? Yeah, I had a bit of that. Or a lot of that. I went straight past ‘limp’ and reached ‘snapped’.  And you can’t really begin to describe it so you have to resort to gif usage? 

   And I’m always going on about how I would love to just drop off the face of the earth, maybe find a nice, warm cave (or hobbit hole! Yes please!) to hibernate in. But the thing is, it turns out you don’t really need a cave or a hobbit hole to do that. Just shutting yourself up in your room accomplishes that apparently. And boy did I accomplish. 

   No doubt we’ve all been there – those times when you’d rather just crawl somewhere, maybe find some cool shade under a boardwalk, where you can hide away from people while Bruce Willis croons to you and lulls you into a false sense of security. You didn’t know that he could croon? Oh, he croons!

   Told you he croons.  I don’t how many times I’ve had that song on repeat in the past week. Enough for me to realize that I should probably stop hiding away like a miserable slug. So. Miserable sluggishness begone! (Ha. If only.) 

   Another bit of excitement to dispel the sluggishness: more Jane Eyre vlog updates! 

   Yeah, baby! 

  Also, it was the episode. The one where she meets the crazy stranger on the road. Yup. You can bet that the internet’s going crazy. 

  Seriously. I wasn’t expecting Rochester to own any item of clothing that might get him mistaken for either Tweedle Dum or Tweedle Dee. Or both.

Also, his dog Pilot has a twitter account where he shares jewels like these:

    Needless to say I am loving this new life that Bronte’s book’s being injected with. And you should go love it, too. I’m just saying.

     Lady Disdain