I am a relatively laid-back and patient person. Relatively. Why is it that traffic makes me crazy? I find myself wanting to yell at slow drivers. Sometimes, I find myself ACTUALLY yelling at slow drivers. Sometimes I even applaud them. And while I am, by nature, a sarcastic person, I am not, by nature, a yeller. (Unless you count the ONE TIME I yelled at Kevin when he was emptying the dishwasher. He was about 5 years old. The kids remind me of this story often. Not one of my shining moments as a parent, so I would like to take this opportunity to say to my kids, "Let it go! It was like 10 years ago!") Anyway, sometimes I yell at slow drivers. Yes, I know they can’t hear me. No, it doesn't make me feel better. Kinda makes me feel petty and . . . impatient. If I get behind a slow driver when I turn onto the highway from my house and get stuck behind him until the road becomes a 4-lane, and the little blue-haired lady who is somebody's sweet grandma is driving 10 miles under the speed limit, I am losing a grand total of like 12 seconds on my way to work. Twelve seconds. For this I get impatient??? I’m clearly an idiot.
Batman vs. Dirty Clothes
I’ve been spending WAY too much time (Kevin, that’s “TOO much time”, not “to much time”) contemplating the whole Batman vs. Superman thing. I think I understand why MOST of the men in my life prefer Superman. . . they are jealous of the fact that he can undress anywhere and just leave his clothes scattered around without getting nagged.
Yeah, that’s gotta be it.
Yeah, It's Yea
For all you bloggy, texty people: the word is spelled “Yea” not “Yay”. Yay is not a word. The Grammar Nazi strikes again.
It's a Girl Thing
Why is it pronounced "Guy-necology"? Just wondering . . .
It's Not Just for Football
Monday nights are awesome for one basic reason: clean sheets. I always wash my sheets on Mondays 'cause it's my day off. But there is nothing like crawling into smooth, clean, cool, Bounce-smelling sheets and drifting off to sleep. Especially if the cowboy is working night shift. :o)