Arizona.

I think I have officially started on the path to becoming a crazy, hermit, shut-in recluse. I haven't started collecting newspapers or refusing to take the trash out or anything yet, but I'm just...weirder all of a sudden.

For example, today after I took a shower (I don't think recluses do that) I couldn't find my pants. Yes, I totally have a pair of unemployed lounging pants that I wear when I sit and stare at the wall. They are not sweatpants though! I do not believe in sweating especially in my pants thus why I don't own sweatpants. They are cute Old Navy yoga pants that one is supposed to exercise in or something. However, I do not believe in exercise so I lounge in them.

Anyway, I couldn't find my pants and to help me find them I composed a little top ten hit of a song. Here is an excerpt:

We can pants. Where's my pants?
Everybody takin' my pants.
Safety pants.
Safety pants.

When I finally found my pants, I amused myself by singing the whole song with the word pants instead of dance. I am totally including Safety Pants on my new album, "Unemployed Joanne Sings Hits of Unemployment: Volume One." I could be the next Kevin Federline.