the traditional three year gift isn't diamonds, but i'm not about to complain about my new necklace

When it was time for me to enter the real world and get up and go to work each day, one of my least favorite parts was scraping the ice off of my car windows every morning in the winter.

When Matt and I got married and moved to a condo, I mentioned to Matt, several months into winter, that the sun must be stronger at our new place because I hadn't had to scrape ice off my windows at all that winter.

And that's when he said, "That's because I've been scraping them every morning."

Well, wow.  He did that lousy chore for me, every single morning, and NEVER ONCE mentioned it to me for thanks or credit.

Yesterday we celebrated our third wedding anniversary and I am here to report that since March 8, 2014 I have never once scraped ice off my car windows.

For that reason, and a million more, he's a keeper.

   Also, we spent the evening at the police station.  That's a story for another day!

i'm an introvert. i don't want to talk about it.

On Wednesday I attended a training for work on collaboration and teamwork.  The trainer had us answer a list of questions to determine whether we are an introvert or extrovert.  I answered all 20 questions true, which means I am introverted as it gets.

(There are 22 numbers on the page, but 11 and 12 are missing, so technically it's only 20 questions.  You wouldn't believe the confusion this caused at the meeting.)

After giving us a few minutes to complete the questionnaire, the presenter said "Okay, who answered all 20 questions true?"

In addition to being an introvert I am also a rule follower, so I raised my hand high.  So did one other person, out of about 50 total people in the training.

"Two people," the trainer said, "Wow.  And you actually admitted it?"

Here is the upside to admitting in front of 50 people you are as introverted as humanly possible.  No one calls on you for the rest of the day.  During the next exercise, we had to write what month/animal/car/food/color/etc. we would be and why, and then the trainer called on participants to share.  I am here to tell you that while everyone else had to share their reasoning at least once, I did not get called on a single time to explain why I would be ice cream and April and green and a dog.

(Because ice cream is refreshing, April is the beginning of the best time of year, green symbolizes hope and a fresh start, and everyone loves dogs.)

I got home from my meeting Wednesday night and snow was in the forecast for the next day.  It was supposed to be especially bad during the morning commute, so Matt and I both planned to work from home.  I've never met anyone who loves a snow day more than Matt.  On Thursday morning, he was up, had cooked us an elaborate snow day breakfast, and made a fire in the fireplace all by 6:45 a.m.

I am not kidding.

The snow was over by 9 and we only got about three inches, which was a third of what was predicted.  But it's a darn good thing Matt shoveled a path in the yard.  It's tough to navigate through two inches of now.

(Ask me how much I loved that path the next afternoon when I had to go get the eggs from the chicken coop).

(A lot.)

As for the rest of our snow day, we worked and then made these delicious pork chops for dinner.

I initially typed "chip" instead of chop and I think that's a Freudian slip because what I wouldn't give for a chip right now.  Matt and I are trying to eat healthy which means zero chips.  However, our neighbors were over at our house a few weekends ago and their daughter is selling Girl Scout cookies.  We ordered three boxes but only had a $20 bill.

Here's a tip for kids who want to sell Girl Scout cookies to Matt.  Tell him you don't have change for a twenty because then he will say, "Well I'll order twenty dollar's worth then!!''

Our neighbors brought over our five boxes the next day and each night, Matt goes upstairs to the kitchen and brings down two napkins with two Girl Scout cookies inside of a mystery combination.  Then he asks "right or left?" and I pick a hand and am surprised at the combo.

Will it be a s'mores and a do-si-do? A thin mint and a shortbread?

Or the best option of all, two tagalongs?

THE SUSPENSE KILLS ME.

We have a wild life.

I don't think introverts typically enjoy surprises, but this is one I can live with.

i'm going back to school. kind of.

My car, affectionately known as Old Blue, is a 2009 Ford Focus.  There are many words one could use to describe my car, and quiet is not one of them.  When I turn the car on, accelerate, or drive up the slightest incline, Old Blue sounds more like a motorcycle than a than a small sedan.  And driving up a hill sounds like a helicopter is taking off.

I usually deal with this by simply turning the volume up on the radio.

On Friday night, Matt and I were going to my cousin's birthday party.  We knew parking would be tight, so we opted to take the Focus instead of Matt's F-150.  He drove, and I prepared him for the noise he would hear.

And then Old Blue was as quiet as a church mouse.

So I said "Okay, you're really going to hear the noises when you go up the hill past that light."

Silence.

"Just you wait until you have to merge onto the turnpike."

Silence.

Old Blue made a fool out of me.  Naturally, Matt credited the smooth and silent ride to his self-proclaimed stellar driving skills.

The next day we heard about an app that scores your driving abilities, and because we love a little competition, we both downloaded it.  The app scores you on five areas: braking, acceleration, cornering, speeding, and phone distraction.  

Matt came home on Monday night proud as a peacock because his score was a 100.  Mine was a respectable 94.  Keep in mind that Matt drives two total miles per day on quiet suburban streets to the train station.  I drive a minimum of thirty miles on the highway at rush hour.

The app tells you where you went wrong, and my infractions were for harsh cornering and speeding.  After I admitted my vehicular shortfalls, I tried to justify it by saying "Well, everyone speeds on that road."

I drive a lot for work, so I've accumulated a few hundred miles since Monday.  I'm proud to say my score has increased to an almost perfect 98.8.

As I was checking my score this morning, I get a text from Matt that said "Oh yea, police school is official."

Several weeks ago, our local police department advertised for the spring session of their Citizen's Police Academy.  Matt's dream job is to be a police officer, and I love men in uniform, so obviously we applied.

And then we joked about what would happen if one of us got accepted and the other didn't.  Neither of us have criminal records and we are upstanding citizens, but we thought it would be funny. 

After I saw Matt's text I immediately checked my email so I could read my acceptance letter.

And there was nothing.  

Newsflash.  It was not actually that funny.

And for a brief moment, I thought, "Officer Gillespie can see the app.  He knows I speed occasionally and maneuver harshly around corners."

Matt double checked his email and it turns out the officer simply spelled my name wrong.

I can't blame him, because I did the same thing.

So, we will be reporting for police school on March 1st.  My goal is to have a driving score of 100 by then.  

Hopefully I'm not pulled over for speeding in the meantime.

the epilogue is my favorite part

I've been reading a lot lately, and tonight I realized all the books I've been reading have a theme.

Give me all the beach reads. 

Last night I was reading the last few pages of Sweetwater Creek, and as I turned the page, Matt looked over and said, “Hmm.  You actually read that part of the book?"

“The epilogue?”  I said, “Of course I read it!”  

“Oh,” he said, “I don’t read any of the optional extra parts."

Matt isn’t a huge reader, but he reads here and there and evidently, sticks to the meat of the book.  No time for a prologue or epilogue.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who reads the extra parts.

When he said that, it reminded me of a few years ago when I was driving my coworker, Jen, and we were on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.  The turnpike has billboards with lights and a message that says "Urgent message when flashing - tune radio to 1640 a.m."

We passed a sign with the lights flashing, so I immediately tuned my radio to 1640 a.m., as directed.

And Jen looked over at me and said, "Wow, I've never been in the car with anyone who actually did that."

Well, I'm a rule follower on the roadway.  And on the couch when I'm reading a book.

Speaking of work, the heat in my office has been broken for the last ten days or so.  My desk is right beneath the vent, and it’s been continuously blowing a stream of freezing air.  I haven’t taken my coat off in days and even had to work with my gloves on occasion.  Yesterday a maintenance man popped his head in the office and said, “Hey, look out, we’re conducting a wind tunnel test!”  

Because "wind tunnel test" sounded ridiculous to me, I assumed he was joking around.  So I laughed and said, “Well, I sure feel like I’m in a wind tunnel!” and continued on with my work.

And three minutes later, black soot came falling like snow out of the aforementioned vent, located directly above my head.  I had my gloves on, but I wished I had been wearing a hat.

But, what stopped coming out was cold air, so I guess the end justified the means.

If only his warning had come with flashing lights and a pre-recorded message alerting me to the impending conditions.

if crown molding wasn't so expensive, i totally would have bought the time-a-tan

On the weather segment of the news the other night, the meteorologist announced that the dead of winter is officially over.  The coldest temps in Philadelphia are from January 5-26, so things will only go up from here.

I almost went upstairs and put on a bathing suit.

Later that night night I was working on a photo book of pictures from last year, and when I got to summer photos, I wished I could transport myself to New Jersey in June.

Yesterday Matt and I went to some thrift shops, before we came home and installed crown molding, and event which shall hereafter be referred to as "the night we surprised ourselves with patience while simultaneously vowing never to put up crown molding ever again."

We didn't get crown molding because we are sophisticated and high society, we got it because we had to cover up an awkward gap between the brick fireplace and the ceiling, both of which were added when the garage was converted into a family room by the previous owners.  When we moved in, there was an ugly piece of wood in that space between the fireplace and ceiling, but we pulled it down because we assumed it was purely cosmetic.  As it turns out, it was not purely cosmetic.

Crown molding is complicated because there's lots of angles and you have to cut things upside down and the whole process is very delicate with minimal room for error, even though Matt was using terms like "I'll just chop this end off" and "we can just slice and dice this corner."

Perhaps all the chopping and slicing and dicing is the reason why I wanted to call in an S.O.S. to Tom around 7 pm last night.

And by Tom, I mean Tom Silva, of This Old House fame.

We refer to him simply as Tom around here and were personally responsible for about 4783 views on his Youtube channel last night.

A few hours in, I suggested to Matt that perhaps we should go a different route and he said, "failure is not an option."

And so we persisted, and now I'm sitting on my couch and enjoying my view of the molding and feeling pretty darn proud of our handiwork.

Anyway, back to the thrift shopping.  It's hit or miss, sometimes you find nothing, sometimes you find a treasure.

I didn't get it, but I could totally use it at the beach in June.

we need a peephole. and a no soliciting sign.

Well, here I am with a thrilling report on the winter weather in southeastern Pennsylvania.  We haven't had much snow or bitter cold, but what we have had is a ton of rain and gray skies for weeks on end.

The past few days have been especially rainy, and I'm currently looking out at a pool of standing water in our backyard thanks to poor drainage.  It's not quite as bad (yet) as the Presidents' Day Flood of 2016, which necessitated a call to the police department.

Anyway, a few weeks ago it poured all weekend.  When there was finally a break in the deluge, Matt went out to the chicken coop in the back of our yard because it appeared from the kitchen window there might have been a slight flood.

While he was out back, the doorbell rang.  I answered because I thought it might be a neighbor in need of storm-related help.  Because don't your neighbors walk to your house and ring your doorbell during a rainstorm?

Mine never have, but there's a first time for everything.

It turns out that it was not a neighbor, but a Verizon sales rep who wanted to inform me that Verizon lines were recently installed in our neighborhood and would I like to sign up for Fios?  The conversation felt like a full circle moment, because last year when Verizon started their installation process, I called the police department because of a suspicious low-hanging wire.

We canceled our Comcast cable last year, and haven't really missed it, but we'd seen  few commercials for Verizon Fios and casually talked about trying it.  I told the sales rep that I wanted to talk to my husband before I signed up for anything.  He asked if he was home, and I said yes, but that he was very busy out in the backyard.

The man stood there, in the driving rain, and looked at me like I was crazy.  I was almost positive he was thinking, "Wow, that's a lame and truly unbelievable response."

So, because I'm an over-explainer and was feeling judged by his suspicious look, I said, "He really is out in the backyard.  He's back there because we have chickens.  And he had to check on the coop in all this rain and wind.  And anyway we don't even have cable right now so we aren't in a rush to sign up."

He cautiously stepped away.

I should have told him I had to get back to my butter churning.

Fast forward to yesterday, another day of downpours.  After work, Matt got dressed in his waterproof full body camo hunting gear and went out back to "check on the yard."  

And as soon as he walked outside, the doorbell rang.

I answered it because AGAIN, what if it was a neighbor experiencing storm-related distress, but this time it was two salesmen from, ironically, a solar panel company.  They told me I looked young to be the homeowner and I was so flattered that I listened to the first few minutes of their spiel about a federal mandate and no cost to the homeowner and blah blah blah, and then they started asking the hard hitting questions.

Questions like do we receive our bills electronically or on paper, and how many kilowatt hours of power do we use monthly?

Well, I haven't the foggiest.

I told them Matt pays the bill and would know all of our stats, and they asked if he had a moment to talk.  I said he was busy in the backyard but I'd pass along their information.  And then again, because I over-explain and who hangs out in the backyard in the rain, I said, "I know it's really rainy out, but he's outside because we have chickens and a poor drainage, so he's checking on things."

One of the guys asked if he could look in the yard to see if he could see him, and I told him to be my guest.  He peeked around the side of the house and then said, "Are you sure he's back there? I don't see anyone!"

Well, sir, what I didn't mention was that he is dressed completely in camouflage.

Which I guess is working.

Then the guys thought I was really nuts and lying about my husband being in the backyard during a rainstorm, so I told them I'd look for him.  I ran to the dining room so I could simultaneously look out the kitchen window while keeping an eye on the front door and making sure the men didn't come inside and make a break for my jewelry box in a tricky heist.

But I peeked out that window to see if I could see Matt, and there he was, in the pouring rain, in all his camouflaged glory, HOLDING A SHOVEL AND DIGGING A GIANT HOLE NEXT TO OUR SHED.

I couldn't tell the salesmen that I found him digging a hole, because I thought they might end up calling the police on us.

So I just told them we wouldn't be making a decision on solar panels today, also, IT HAS RAINED FOR A THOUSAND DAYS SO I'M NOT QUITE READY TO RELY SOLELY ON THE SUNSHINE TO POWER MY LIFE.

When Matt came inside I filled him in on the solar panel visitors and questioned why in the world he was digging a hole?  He said water was starting to collect under his shed so he constructed a makeshift trench.

Of course.

All I have to say is the next time it rains, I am not answering the door. 

Unless it's someone selling backyard drainage systems.

i guess i should go back inside my glass house and stop throwing stones

About 12 hours after we returned from our honeymoon, Matt ran to the grocery store to get a few things we needed.  And when he returned with this haul, I discovered something that I didn't know about him.

 He was running an underground food pantry.

Just kidding.  I learned that Matt's philosophy as it relates to items at the grocery store is "if you like it, buy a bunch of it."  

Matt's not like this in any other area, so I've always wondered why he buys in bulk at the food store.  

I think I got my answer on Friday night.

We went to the Phillies game Friday evening and we met Matt's dad at the ballpark.  Matt and I had taken the train into the city but Matt's dad had driven in from his office, so he was going to drive us home.  As we walked to his car he said, "Oh, don't let me forget, I have some stuff for you guys in the trunk."

Do you know what was in his trunk?

Eight liters of olive oil and 96 cans of tomatoes.

Evidently Matt comes from a long line of men who cannot resist a ShopRite can can sale.

Tonight I decided to clean out my purse since it felt like it weighed about ten pounds.  And as I was cleaning it, I realized that I may have a problem with multiples myself.

If I'm ever in a situation where I need three packs of gum, two pairs of sunglasses, four pens, seven lip glosses, five bracelets (silver AND gold), a pair of earrings, three hair clips of assorted sizes, two bottles of hand lotion, and three protein packed snacks, I will be prepared. 

at least i know pat sajak's name

Yesterday morning I had a meeting at Panera and I ordered an iced coffee.  I haven't been drinking coffee recently and the reason is twofold.

First, thanks to Dunkin' Donuts' irresistible summer promotion, every single morning from April 20th through June 20th I treated myself to a large iced coffee with a double shot of caramel, cream, and sugar.  I thought it might be a good idea to take a little break from beginning my day with a giant cup of sugar.

Second, I had a bottle of Chips Ahoy flavored creamer in the fridge that I planned to reserve for weekends only.  I decided Sunday morning that I'd love nothing more than a nice hot mug of coffee and I pulled the creamer out of the fridge only to discover there was about a tablespoon left.

Evidently someone had been drinking the creamer and also drizzling it on the occasional bowl of ice cream.

I won't name names, but there's only two people who live here and it was not me.

So, I got a big cup of iced coffee yesterday and I don't know if it was the fact that I hadn't had coffee in a few weeks, or that Panera includes some sort of illegal substance in their beverages, but by the time I arrived at the office at 1:30, I was KEYED UP.

I share an office with one of the attorneys I work with because my life is very glamorous.

Speaking of glamorous offices, Matt's company moved to a new office downtown and this is his view.

 His company occupies ten stories in the building and on the first level they have their VERY OWN BISTRO.

Do you know what's on the first floor of my building?

The coroner.

Anyway, by about 3:30 my energy and I had shredded seven boxes of paper, jammed the copy machine, sent about forty six emails, re-recorded my voicemail greeting, and checked the mailbox four times.

I also responded to my emails out loud by talking to my computer, which is fine when I work from home but I guess it wasn't pleasant for my office mate because when we were packing up our laptops I said to him, "I just wish that for one day, ONE DAY, I could say what I really think."

And he said, "Let me know what day that is, I might want to take off."

I thought I'd calmed down by last evening, but when we were making dinner I heard Matt say something about Alex and the last names of the feuding families in Romeo and Juliet and I said, "ALEX?  WHAT DOES ALEX HAVE TO DO WITH ROMEO AND JULIET?  WHAT WAS ROMEO'S LAST NAME ANYWAY?  I CAN'T REMEMBER.  AND WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ALEX AND WHAT DOES SHE HAVE TO DO WITH SHAKESPEARE?" 

Because I thought he was talking about my brother's wife, Alex.

And then I saw Jeopardy was on TV.

And I proceeded to laugh because the host's name isn't Alex it's ALEC.

Matt and I like to have World News Tonight on while we get dinner ready, partly because we like to be caught up on all current events and partly because Matt loves to call David Muir "David MEEEE-UIR."

After David Meeeeeuir was over tonight, I heard, "...and now, here is the host of Jeopardy, Alex Trebek."

Alex.

With an X.

I glanced at Matt but didn't say anything in case he hadn't heard, but he smiled with satisfaction and said, "You know, I was pretty sure last night that it was Alex, not Alec.  But I didn't think it was a good night to debate it."

He was right about both things.

Tomorrow, I'll be drinking herbal tea.

all's well that ends well

I planned to write a post last night, but after dinner I got wound up in an organizational frenzy.  Things went downhill when I reached the linen closet and discovered a sample of Aveeno Positively Radiant Daily Moisturizer.  Even though I have used Clinique Dramatically Different Moisturizing Gel on my face every single morning and night for twelve years, I foolishly decided to switch things up and take the free sample for a test drive.

I washed and moisturized my face immediately because how is a girl supposed to go one more second knowing she's not as positively radiant as she could be?

Seconds later, my eyes and face were burning with the heat of a thousand suns and no matter what I tried, the pain would not subside.  I took out my contacts and washed my face repeatedly with the gentlest cleanser I could find and even switched out my washcloth and towel.  Nothing worked.

I finally ventured out to the living room with my eyes open a teeny tiny bit to tell Matt his optically compromised wife was going to bed, and this was on the TV.

AND THEN I FAINTED.

Just kidding.

Fear not, Matt's not toying with the idea of entering the dental field.  He had an appointment for a dental implant scheduled for this morning and wanted to prepare himself for what was to come.

I am a girl who once fainted at the dentist office after getting a cavity filled.

And the morning after I got my wisdom teeth removed, I went into the bathroom to rinse with salt water and when I saw my very swollen cheeks in the mirror, I hit the floor.

So, since I don't do well with gruesome dental details, I got in bed.  Matt came in when the implant video was over and when he asked if I needed anything, I requested that he hold the small fan I keep on my nightstand up to my eyes because that was the only way I could feel some relief.

Luckily I woke up today and my eyeballs had cooled way down to normal temperature.  But Aveeno Positively Radiant Daily Moisturizer is forever dead to me.

Matt and I both had the day off today, and he was hurting big time after his dental implant appointment.  He was describing the intensity of the pain to me and I stopped just short of saying "BUCK UP COWBOY, I HAD A BAD EXPERIENCE WITH A POSITIVELY RADIANT MOISTURIZER LAST NIGHT, SO I KNOW PAIN," because something tells me having a giant piece of metal screwed into your jawbone is probably a little bit more painful and also, not done purely in the name of vanity.

So I made sure he had a steady supply of ice packs and jello and that he took his medicine and then I made a trip to Sonic to get him a milkshake because HE HELD A FAN UP TO MY EYES last night as I fell asleep and I thought that was a debt I should attempt to repay.

I'm happy to report that I just so happened to have an eye doctor appointment scheduled for this morning and everything checked out in tip top shape.

But it's safe to say I won't be betraying my beloved Clinique anytime soon.

Or organizing the linen closet.

at least we had donuts

As a follow up to my last post, I will share that I went back to the mall this weekend and bought a few more things for my work wardrobe, including a black skirt.

Actually, two black skirts.

Okay, actually three black skirts.

Apparently I'm trying to create some sort of uniform for myself.

This morning I put on the fanciest of the skirts because I had a new employee starting and I wanted to look like a boss.

Usually I get flowers for new employee's desks, but since this particular employee was a man and I wasn't sure how he'd feel about a vase of daisies, I decided to pick up some donuts instead.

I stopped by Dunkin' Donuts and was about ten minutes into my commute when I glanced down and saw a gigantic rip right in the front of my new skirt.  And then I sat at a red light and contemplated whether or not I could keep a file folder strategically positioned over my right thigh all day without looking like a nut.  In the end I decided that I couldn't, so I went home to change into a pair of pants.  And I considered grabbing an extra outfit to just keep in my trunk in case I ever need spare clothes in the future.

My pants and I made it to the office in record time.  I had to set up the new employee's user account and he needed to add numbers to the end.  He said, "I'll just use my birthday.  July eighth, nineteen NINETY TWO.

Someone born in 1992 is old enough to be a grown up and have a real job.

And I was born in 1988 and am considering keeping a spare outfit in my trunk.

Age is just a number.

Speaking of jobs, Matt works for a huge law firm and his boss told him that he'd have to go to University of Pennsylvania's law school a few days this week to answer any questions new law students might have about technology.  Matt anticipated the question pool to be pretty shallow and was geared up for a week on easy street.  He even considered bringing a few issues of American Hunter in case he had some down time.

And then he walked into the meeting on Monday and one of the firm's top partners said, "Now everyone, make sure to utilize your trial master, Matt."

MATT THE TRIAL MASTER.

It turns out his boss didn't give him the full story, and he was assigned to be working at the firm's trial academy for incoming associates from around the nation.  The first day's mock trial had quite an impact on him and he's now contemplating law school.

He also sent me this text on his way home.

He held true to his promise because when he got home tonight he had a bag with half a dozen donuts in hand.

It was good to start the evening on a high note because after dinner we had to complete my open enrollment insurance information.

Insurance is not my wheelhouse.  For example, when I got my first real job I brought the insurance information home for my dad to look at and said, "I didn't look at it too closely but they have a cafeteria plan! Can you believe it?"  Because I thought a cafeteria plan meant lunch every day.  And that I'd hit the jackpot.

And then my dad broke the news that this is the real world and a cafeteria plan is a type of health insurance plan.  MAJOR BUMMER.

The insurance torch has now been passed to Matt.  I think in our marriage vows we should have said, "I promise to love you in good times and in open enrollment."

In the last few months I had a full eye exam and ordered six months worth of contact lenses.  When I made the appointments Matt asked if I used my vision insurance and I said no, because I didn't get vision insurance last year.

We logged into my benefits accounts tonight and Matt said "Let's check exactly what insurance you had last year so we can compare."

Guess who got vision insurance last year.

Whoops.

HAVE A DONUT MATT, AND REMEMBER HOW HAPPY YOU WERE TWO MINUTES AGO.

Luckily I still have my current insurance through the end of the month, so guess who will be getting a brand new pair of glasses next week?

I'm hoping that my vision will be better than ever.  Maybe it will so clear that I will notice a rip in my skirt before I leave the house.

not much beats a weekend at the beach

 

   

  

it was everything i imagined a vacation day would be

Well, today may be Tuesday but it feels like Monday to me.  

I took the day off yesterday because it was May 18th.  A day of utmost significance.  A day that has been marked on our calendar for weeks now. 

It was the release of the new Cheez-It 'Extra Toasty' flavor.

And you better believe I was at the food store at 10:00 am to stock up.  

Now that I write that sentence, it’s sinking in that I made a special trip to the grocery store on my day off just to buy a new snack cracker.  I’m not sure if that’s a high or a low.

A few months ago, as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard Matt say, “OH SHOOT.  I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO DO THAT.”

In case the forgotten task was turning off the oven or renewing the car insurance or something along those lines, I asked in my sleepy state, “Forgot to do what?”

“To write to the Cheez-It manufacturer.  I want to suggest that they put more slightly burned crackers in the boxes because those are my absolute favorite.”

So basically, we have literally lost sleep over the rarity of toasty Cheez-Its.

But evidently the request went from Matt’s lips to the CEO of Kellogg’s ears because we now have two boxes of extra toasty Cheez-Its in our cabinet.  I told myself that we could eat one box this week and save the second for our trip to the beach this weekend, but there is a better chance of me understanding calculus than there is of that second box of Cheez-Its making it to Saturday.

As for the rest of my day off, I woke up at 6:30 because I didn’t want to waste a second of it.  I sat on the balcony and drank my coffee, got all ready for the day, made a phone call to the mortgage man, listened to two podcasts, read six chapters in a new Jodi Picoult book, cleaned the bathroom, ate a tuna sandwich, watered the plants, vacuumed, organized the clothes in my closet by color and category, went to the food store, Sam’s Club, and the post office.

And after all that I looked at the clock to figure out how to spend the last precious moments of my day off and it turns out that it was only 11:37.  

So I decided to go home and grab my camera and a water bottle and take a nice long walk in the woods.  I came upon a horse farm on my walk and wished I’d picked up some carrots while I was at the store for Cheez-Its.

I didn’t listen to music because I was all by myself and I’ve watched enough crime shows to know that I’d want to be able to hear if someone was sneaking up on me so I could make a speedy getaway.  

Without my headphones, my mind wandered and I thought about how when I was little I read a book about a girl who found a tiny abandoned cottage in the woods and she lived there and made an adorable home for herself and even swept the floor with evergreen branches and cut the grass around the cottage with scissors, which sounds quaint in theory but in reality, not so much.  

I also thought about how I wouldn’t mind living in a hidden woodsy cottage now and then, specifically when it is between 65 and 72 degrees, with no precipitation and minimal winds.  However, I have to be careful not to share that with Matt because he would have us packed up and moved out and living underneath an oak tree before you can say “Where do I plug in my straightener?”

And just as I was imagining purple wildflowers lining the path to this imaginary cottage, I saw a large brown creature move out of the corner of my eye.  I stopped, and spotted something walking slowly behind the trees.

And the first thought that entered my mind was, “Oh my gosh.  One of those horses has escaped from the pasture.  I’m going to have to CATCH A HORSE.”

It was as if forty minutes in the woods turned me into some sort of rustic superhero who can catch runaway farm animals with her bare hands.

And then the horse walked into a clearing.  And the horse was a deer.  

Which I should have expected because there are approximately seventy trillion deer in those woods.

After my walk it was still only about 2:30, so I decided to drive around some neighborhoods and look for homes for sale because Matt and I are beginning the process of Buying A House.  And after my day yesterday I think it's best that we move into a civilized neighborhood.

With no wild animals.

And easy access to a grocery store.