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Mar. 27th, 2017 10:00 amI never did get around to busting out the vacuum cleaner on Saturday, but I did get the bed made and the bag of clutter filled up. There is no more pile in my bedroom, and all the pants and bras that got chucked in the closet as I changed sizes are sorted out and put away properly so I can find them again when/if I need them. (I don't plan to need the 42DD bras ever again, though, so I should probably get rid of them.) That means the kitchen, pantry, bedroom, and bathroom are DONE. The closet won't take much more doing, and the living room won't take much doing to begin with, and the office is down to just the bookshelves and some other bits and pieces.
Sunday was mostly good; I got to see my aunt and uncle who I haven't seen since last Easter or thereabouts, and I handed off my CD player/clock radio to my parents, whose CD player doesn't play reliably. And there was lasagna, which Mom said wasn't brilliant but I think was jes' fine.
Unfortunately there was also a lot of "Molly sits there feeling like a lump of Crisco while her sister shows off all sorts of pictures and video of static trapeze moves and everyone says 'Holy shit!'". I rather hate that. If I say anything about what I've been doing with myself, it looks like I'm competing for attention. I won't win that one, so I don't get into it. I just sit there feeling like a lump of Crisco. In the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter that I'm the "other kid" even though I'm the older kid, and in the grand scheme of things I know that, but it still bothers me when my nose gets rubbed in it.
I want cornmeal pancakes with molasses. If I buy cornmeal, I could do that for dinner (assuming I remember where the molasses got relocated to in the pantry).
Sunday was mostly good; I got to see my aunt and uncle who I haven't seen since last Easter or thereabouts, and I handed off my CD player/clock radio to my parents, whose CD player doesn't play reliably. And there was lasagna, which Mom said wasn't brilliant but I think was jes' fine.
Unfortunately there was also a lot of "Molly sits there feeling like a lump of Crisco while her sister shows off all sorts of pictures and video of static trapeze moves and everyone says 'Holy shit!'". I rather hate that. If I say anything about what I've been doing with myself, it looks like I'm competing for attention. I won't win that one, so I don't get into it. I just sit there feeling like a lump of Crisco. In the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter that I'm the "other kid" even though I'm the older kid, and in the grand scheme of things I know that, but it still bothers me when my nose gets rubbed in it.
I want cornmeal pancakes with molasses. If I buy cornmeal, I could do that for dinner (assuming I remember where the molasses got relocated to in the pantry).
