It’s that monday thing again, the time when I sit back, put my feet up, and panic that I did nothing on the weekend but socialize and think about all the things I have yet to accomplish before I can say my life is complete.
I think, in some bizarre way, I’d rather it just spotted along, regular-like, and never mind all this onagain-offagain reality.
And then again, variation is good, too.
We drove grandma home last night, plunked her down in her house, installed her snoopy (don’t ask) and drove away, waving, our temporarily clean car once again speckled by bits of dirt, salt, and highway-snow residue. It’s like we live here again. Oh yeah. We do.
A stir-fry appeared on my plate last night. I think I went shopping for the ingredients, but the with the blur and the busy-ness, I’m not even sure. It was spicy. I have leftovers for lunch again. Leftovers! Do you know what that means? It means we have enough food in our house once again that I’m even forced to consume it at work.
My other adventure — which I marginally do remember so hold onto your hats — was the trip to Safeway to buy a light bulb. Yes. One of those experiences of settling: you finally sit down in a living room that isn’t filled with boxes, on a couch that isn’t cluttered with stuff, to watch a television that is actually plugged in and connected to other appliances, and — voila — no lightbulb in the lamp.
Hardly and emergency situation, I know, but rather that stare vacantly at Survivor (wherein they dragged out a story where everyone already knew dull ending) I wandered out the door, pondered the wonders of residential lighting in the brightly lit aisles of the local grocery store, and purchased a handful of various energy efficient bulbs.
It was an enlightening experience… pause… groan.