it's a convoluted mess
I make an effort to try to write every day. Even if it only results in editing a few typos and deleting a metric fuckton of superfluous commas. Sometimes I only read through things I’ve written. But the point is dedicating time out of every day to focus on writing. That’s writing, which is different from blogging. For me at least. It probably shouldn’t be, but my screwball brain has always seen them as two… Keep reading…Clock strikes to five…
Bob’s been on vacation all week and tomorrow is our last day to enjoy it. I get so spoiled at the end of the year. Bob doesn’t take much time off throughout the year so he ends up taking a lot of time off in November and December. I love having him home. We don’t really do anything. Nothing that we don’t do every weekend at least. It’s just more of it. And it’s awesome…. Keep reading…Days of ease…
Sometimes when I’m listening to a song for the first time, I’m not paying close enough attention to the lyrics, and I mis-hear what’s actually being said. Common occurrence. I know I’m not the only one. Sometimes what I hear (as opposed to what’s being said) makes me stop and say, “Wait—WHAT?” And then I have to back up and listen to it again to figure it out. Sometimes actually paying attention is all it… Keep reading…Minnesota WHAT?
I haven’t actually seen my family since Ellie’s birthday party in July. It always feels weird getting together with my siblings because I am so much not like them. I never really realized how much until I didn’t see them constantly. Hunter has a mustache and is taller than Mike. He’ll be seventeen in two months. Noah is finally taller than me, his voice is changing, and he tries to speak in a higher register… Keep reading…Lost my mind a thousand times…
I made beef stew in the crockpot for the first time. I’ve never actually cooked beef before. And considering my track record with crockpot failures, I had no idea how things were going to turn out. It actually worked. Go figure. Which is good. Because we’re going to be eating it for another three days. — Anyway O.A.R.
1.) Sometimes I think I shouldn’t be allowed to do laundry. If I’m not drawing blood or smashing my head, I can’t seem to do a complete load without screwing it up. I don’t even know how many times I’ve run stuff through the washer only to realize that I never put soap in the machine. Last night I threw a load in the dryer and never turned it on. Things would get done a… Keep reading…So damn easy to see…