if you need me, i'll probably be sleeping

Since my Valentine’s Day flowers are still alive, it’s not too late to write about it, right?

When I got home from work on Monday, Valentine’s Day Eve, there was a vase on our front step with the most beautiful flowers and a sweet note from Matt.  He is a keeper.

 Matt is on a healthy eating kick and requested that I refrain from getting him candy for Valentine’s Day because that could throw a major wrench into his progress.

So I went the healthy route and made this.

 

Move over, Martha Stewart.

(I also got him a gift card to Cabela’s so don’t feel too sorry for him.  But he really does love oranges.  By my calculations we’ve eaten 11 pounds of oranges in the last three weeks.)

The real gift last week though was our new mattress. 

Several months ago Matt started saying that his back and shoulders were bothering him every morning.  I blamed it on the weather, the work bag he carries, too much work around the house, basically anything other than the 6 year old, bottom of the line, IKEA mattress we were sleeping on.

All the while, I kept quiet about my own back and shoulder pain because do you know how expensive new mattresses are?

Finally, my back pain overtook my thrifty tendencies and I came clean about how my back and shoulders hurt every single day and maybe we really do need a new mattress.

We did a little research online and asked around, and everyone we knew told us to get a Sleep Number bed, so we headed to the store on Saturday to test things out.  The salesman, Aron with one R, had us lay down on a mattress.  He said he would adjust it, and to tell him to stop when we felt most comfortable.

I could have laid there forever.

Of course the tester mattress is the fanciest and most expensive mattress money can buy, so after we got our ideal sleep numbers we walked ALL the way to the other end of the store where the mattresses in the price range of the budget minded shopper were located.   

It was like test driving a Mercedes and buying a Kia.

We made our purchase and were told to expect it via UPS in 5-7 days.  When we got the tracking number, Matt was like a kid tracking Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve.  He could not wait to get it.  It was in our town on Wednesday, but the UPS website indicated it was still at the distribution center and not out for delivery.  So, Matt went to the UPS distribution center on Wednesday night AND MET THE MATTRESS.

We put it together when he got home and at this point I was thinking perhaps we’d been the victim of a very expensive scam. 

After the air pump was on for a bit, it started to look more like something I’d want to sleep on.  I said to Matt, “You know, this is really just like a glorified air mattress.”

No kidding,

Anyway, I've been sleeping like a baby since we got the mattress, and I only have one negative thing to say about it.  It makes it even harder to get out of bed in the morning.

The 5am Miracle book I talked about a few weeks ago is definitely not going to happen.

i still might spend it on BonneBell Lip Lites

When I was probably about twelve or thirteen years old, I was switching out my winter and summer clothes when a flash of brilliance struck.  I decided I'd put a ten dollar bill in the pocket of my jeans, so that when I pulled them out of the closet the following fall, I'd come across that little surprise and be delighted to remember I was ten dollars richer than I thought I was.

I told my mom about my idea, and she said, "Well, if you're the one that puts the money in the pocket, it's not going to be much of a surprise."

She was right, so I kept the ten bucks and probably spent it on some BonneBell Cappuccino Lip Lites and a tube of roll-on body glitter.

Today was unseasonably warm for February in Pennsylvania, so I wore a light jacket I hadn't worn since last spring.  When I got to the office and put my keys in the pocket, I felt a piece of paper.  I figured it was an old receipt, so imagine my surprise when I pulled it out and discovered that it was in fact a ten dollar bill.

You would have thought I'd won the lottery.

If only my thirteen year old self had known that in fifteen years, I would be leaving money in my pockets and really and truly forgetting it was in there.

It's just as great as I imagined it would be.

north, south, east, and west, spin the wheel and hope for the best

Last night Matt and I each made a bowl of chocolate peanut butter ice cream and settled in for an episode of Brain Games.

I believe the words you're looking for are WILD AND CRAZY.

The episode theme was "Battle of the Sexes," and obviously I knew the ladies had this one in the bag but I humored Matt and agreed to play along with the scenarios.

First topic up was spacial reasoning.

Welp, Laura Darling, OUT.

The scenario was, "Which set of directions makes more sense to you? Drive north on main street for two miles.  Head west on Pine Street, and then drive southeast on Maple Street.  You will reach your destination in two thirds of a mile."  

OR "Drive out of the parking lot and turn left.  At the grocery store, make a right.  Stay on that road for three stoplights, and then make a right at the bank.  Your destination will be on the left, just past the pizza place."

NOW YOU'RE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE.

Spatial reasoning has never been my wheelhouse.  However, I believe I come by it honestly because when my mom is using a map, she turns it so it's in the direction that she's going.  And a few years ago my family was driving down to visit my aunt in Virginia, and my Mommom mentioned that whenever she's driving downhill, she feels like she's going south, and when she is driving uphill she feels like she is going north.

And I knew what she meant because I automatically assume that whatever direction I am driving is is north.  South is behind me, east is to my right, and west to my left.

In fact, as I was writing this post in my head while driving, I came to an intersection with this sign.

And to me, that just does not make sense.  If I am turning left, I am turning west.

I scheduled a meeting with coworkers this week and I sent an email out with directions to the office and the most convenient parking garage.  People were driving in from all over, but in my mind I assumed that they were all coming via the exact route I take.  And so I said, "When you're on 69th Street, turn left onto Chestnut Street (just past the Foot Locker) and the parking lot will be on the left."

And a (male) coworker emailed me back and said, "Assuming we're driving which direction on 69th Street?"

I DON'T KNOW.  THAT'S WHY THERE'S GOOGLE MAPS.

AND COMPASSES.

My sub par spatial reasoning skillz do not stop with driving.  When I was in college, I had a terrible ear infection and called home for medical advice and a healthy dose of sympathy.  I talked to my mom, and I presumed that she was in the living room.  When she asked me which ear hurt, I said, "Well, I guess it depends which couch you're sitting on."

Yes, because that would make a difference.

So all that to say Matt won spatial reasoning.

The second section was all about following directions and Matt and I are both Big Time Rule Followers.  If there is a rule, we follow it.  But I edged him out in the scenarios, so the game was tied up.

The third and final section was about memory.  I hate to brag but I am a memory WHIZ.  I remember everything, so it came as no surprise that I won each and every memory quiz and then gloated about how girls are the best and my fantastic memory put me over the edge.

Notably, there was no section on humility.

And then, because today is Thrifty Thursday, Matt decided to set up automatic payments for my student loan.  I prefer to go to the student loan website and pay my loan manually each month, because then I know it was done, and done correctly.  I don't trust automatic payments for the same reason I don't trust the check deposit app on my phone, and still prefer to take my checks to the bank and hand them to the teller like it's 2003.

Anyway, it turns out you get a discount for automatic payments so I agreed that we should give it a go because somebody's gotta put the thrifty in Thrifty Thursday.  And when I got out of the shower this morning I had a text from Matt that said, "What's your six digit pin for your student loan?"

"I don't use a pin," I said, "I just log in with my username and password."

"You should have an account pin too though.  It's six digits.  You probably picked it when you filled out your FAFSA form."

As a lady I hate to give away my age, but let's just say that FAFSA form was filled out NINE YEARS AGO.

MEMORY, DON'T FAIL ME NOW.

It failed me.  I had no idea what my pin was so I had to call and reset it.

Pride comes before the fall.

I'm holding out hope that maybe someone will ask me for directions this week, and I will have the opportunity to redeem myself.

i won't be driving anywhere until april

Eleanor Roosevelt famously said you should do one thing every day that scares you.  Well, mission accomplished for today, Mrs. Roosevelt.  I drove during a WINTER WEATHER EVENT.

Over the weekend the weathermen started excitedly forecasting a Thanksgiving Eve snowstorm.  If there are two things weather people love, it's some drama and the opportunity to come up with a catchy name for a storm.  I think the combination of the term "Snowvember" and the fact that there were no hurricanes or major floods to keep them busy this summer made them desperate for this storm to turn into something major.

As a result, lots of people shrugged off the forecast as much ado about nothing. However, I was not one of those people.  I HATE driving in the snow.  I try to remain calm and in control but I cannot help it- I panic if I know I have to drive anywhere when the road conditions may be less than ideal.

And so, I did what any normal person does when the forecast calls for snow.  I CALLED MY BOSS AND TOLD HER I WOULD NEED THE DAY OFF.

In all fairness, I was already flirting with the idea of taking the day off because I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for 10:00, and I was tempted by the prospect of a five day weekend.  But it was the forecast that sealed the deal.

The changeover from rain to snow hadn't happened when I left for the doctor at 9:30 this morning, but I threw a granola bar in my purse before I left JUST IN CASE I got stranded on the roads.  At the last minute I decided to also bring a few mozzarella cheese sticks with me because you can never be too prepared, and I shoved two in the front pocket of my sweatshirt on my way out the door.

Please keep in mind that the forecast called for ONE TO THREE INCHES.

I HAVE NOT MOVED TO BUFFALO.

I had an appointment with the podiatrist because I have aged fifty years since I turned 26, and at the end of the appointment the doctor told grandma here that I could put my shoes back on while he finished fixing up my orthotic.

Please imagine my embarrassment as I bent down to put my sneakers on and those two cheese sticks SLID OUT OF MY POCKET AND ONTO THE FLOOR.

The doctor looked at my cheese and me quizzically, and for a split second I thought about explaining that I brought them along in case I got stranded in my car due to the weather conditions.  I decided that scenario was just as odd, if not moreso, than just being that girl who carries cheese in her pocket, so I just said, "Oh, cheese!" and picked them up as fast as I could.

(Just kidding about the "oh, cheese" part.  I didn't actually say that because I didn't think of it until this very minute but how hilarious would that have been?)

The first flakes were falling as I drove home, and I white knuckled it the entire way.  Once I merged onto the highway I positioned myself behind a fruit truck that was driving slowly and sensibly because it seemed like the right thing to do.  I stopped just short of turning on my flashers to broadcast my intense fear to my fellow motorists.

The drive was uneventful but when I pulled into our parking lot I was so relieved I wanted to cry.

And now, allow me to provide a visual aid of the road conditions at the time of my travel.

I know.

It's a wonder I made it home on those not-at-all-snow-covered roads.

I still don't regret taking the cheese.

Better safe (and mortified) than sorry.

Or hungry.