What would Taylor do?
Say what girlfriend? You don't turn to my girl Taylor is times of need? Don't worry, it's never too late to turn your life around.
Yesterday, for example, I called on the powers of T. Swift all. day. long.
Woke up late? It's ok, my girl Taylor says throw on some eyeliner and lip gloss and you're good to go.
Baby crying? Can't decide. Would Taylor give the babe a sparkly cupcake or write little Phin a song? No cupcakes on hand and my song skills end at changing the lyrics to Camptown Races so I go with option c, blast 80's pop and do the running man. Babe is satisfied and I'm pretty sure Taylor would approve.
Jared and I get into a tiff on the phone. Should I go for a walk in a long, attractive sweater and and run my fingers through my hair in a super hot but pensive way? Nope, it isn't raining. Instead I show Phin how to burn a picture in the bathtub. Feel better. Call Jared back and we're good.
Still thinking about cupcakes. Phin and I run to the cupcakery. No sparkly one so we settle for sprinkles. Sprinkles, sparkles, same diff, right?
Dog puked on my bed. No sugar left, dang it.
"Stupid doggy, puked on my bed.
Hate her, hate her.
Soon she's gonna wish she was dead.
The little black dog's gonna pay."
Crap. The puke didn't disappear. But now I'm whistling. Whistling makes work go by faster, doncha know? Just ask Snow White. I can totally see my girl Taylor penning a song for Snow White and her crappy life (crappy roommates, MIL issues, married to a doorknob prince so she's probably dreaming about a hot, exciting ex boyfriend that broke her heart) so I feel pretty satisfied as I clean up the puke.
Bedtime. Listen to my girl Taylor and paint my toenails. With glitter.
Thanks sister!
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