This season's fashion keyword: LAYERING

I bought a small compression sleeve.

I bought a medium compression sleeve.

I bought a large compression sleeve.

I didn’t know which would fit.

So I put all of them on.

I. AM. VERY. COMPRESSED.

Calfway there and livin' on a prayer

Walgreens rudely doesn’t have calf-compression sleeves so I had to improvise and buy a knee one. But I’m not certified on knee-to-calf conversion measurements so I bought one that’s way too big. But I layered one of those stick-on heating pads (which was designed for backs, so again: more blind-guessing conversions) underneath and I’m just hoping for the best.

Also: My ankle looks weirdly puffy.

Also: I have no idea why I’m in possession of two mismatched wastebaskets at work, but it makes me feel richer than Midas so don’t tell anyone.

When you have an inordinate amount of broken Christmas cookies and you overestimated how much frosting you’d need to decorate them, it’s a crime to waste it all

And while it’s not technically a crime to ugly-shame the Frankenstein frosted cookies you creatively—and heroically, imho—salvage from the carnage, it’s still terribly rude.

You may think you're classy

but you’ll never be hold-the-garage-freezer-door-shut-with-packing-tape-because-the-damn-thing-keeps-swinging-open-no-matter-what-else-you-try classy.

Submitted for patent:

My next Nobel Prize will be awarded for the old sock I cut cleverly using my Möbius-strip-making skills into a longer rope to give my mom left-hand access to her right-side-attached electric recliner controller since her right arm is immobilized from her surgery.

I'm sure I'll also receive a Pulitzer for deftly crafting that last sentence.