I spent the entire weekend in bed.
"Lets go buy a canvas. We should work on that hair painting."
But to be quite honest, I highly doubt he'll do anything with the canvas. I know this from previous experience.
"Okay, we need paint."
Fuck, he's really serious. I don't know if I really want to invest all this effort on a canvas that's just going to gather dust in his garage.
-Okay, let's pick some up at my house.
"Alright. Are you going to help me with this?"
Truthfully, I just want to devour that pint of mint ice-cream and watch him get frustrated because there's no way this will work and if it does, there's no way we'll complete this today.
-Alright, what can I do?
"Go rake up as much hair as you can from my bedroom floor."
Disgusting, I know. I shed like you wouldn't imagine.
"Okay, so how are we going to do this?"
-I guess I'll start.
Fuck, this is so frustrating, I wish I had straight hair.
"Have you developed a method?"
"Its starting to really look like the shower floor. "
Yeah, he's right.
"Well that was productive."
He's right, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself.