My Bedroom? A Disaster. My Cat? Flatulent in Three Languages.

I will never be one of those bloggers who shows you photos of what she's wearing on a regular basis.

This isn't because I'm fashion-challenged, but more because if I am blogging, it is because I am at home. And if I am at home, I undoubtedly am not looking even remotely cute.

Case in point:  I'm currently sporting a mass of brown hair gathered into a Brat Pack worthy high-pony and yoga pants combo. On my feet? Christian Louboutins.

Oh wait, no, that's just a snoring cat. My bad!

I'm holed up in our bedroom because the rain and wind are beating down my door and I'm laying low.

Being in here made me realize a few things:

1. After our wedding (a month and a half ago) I took my gown off, rolled it up, and stuffed it into my suitcase... where it is currently sitting. I should probably steam it and preserve it. You know, for the next time I wear it. Insert eye rolling here. My ponytail is bobbing sarcastically. 
2. The furniture layout of our bedroom is horrific. Parsons desk smashed up against a nightstand, immediately next to a dresser... it is like an Ikea moshpit in here. 
3. The other end table is still in a box in all its disassembled glory. 
4. We don't have room for both night stands. 
5. I need giant laundry baskets. 
6. I need to teach my husband that laundry baskets are to contain dirty clothes—instead of the floor—and not to house clean clothes in lieu of a dresser. Our walls are lined with piles of clean, folded clothing. Our dressers are empty. Makes sense this doesn't. 
7. I'm glaring at blood red tab-topped curtains with judging eyes. Our bedspread is gray with black and light gray leaves, our sheets are eggplant, and we have deep jewel toned teal accent pillows. 
8. I realize that the red is temporary, and is keeping creepers from peeping in at me. I like the red. It is growing on me. 
9. Cat's do, in fact, fart.