Holy Mother of God does HE every have a lot of stuff! I mean I knew HE was kind of a pack rat but geez….I guess I just got used to the clutter, or was in a deep state of denial about it.
I’ve started putting small things aside that I think HIS family and friends would like, but they’re scatted upstairs and downstairs. The easiest thing to do would be to use gift bags, tag one for each person and drop stuff in as I go. But gift bags seem a little too festive for this, plus most of the ones we have are from Christmas, or Victoria
I’ll have to see what the local dollar store has in plain, non-festive gift bags, if such a thing exists.
Oh, and add “new local Thai restaurant” to the list of places I can’t go without being mauled. Apparently my manger’s sister is the manger there.
Last night I rented a few movies, figured I’d have some green curry, watch some flicks and sort through paperwork. “We Bought a Zoo”, about a guy with 2 kids who buys a zoo…6 months after his wife dies. Ok, never mind that one, (why don’t they mention these details on the movie boxes?!) Next up, “Nine”, watched 15 minutes of it and lost interest. I settled for a Katherine Heigle movie, junk food for the brain. Perfect.
It did occur to me at the movie place that I’m screwed when it comes to scary movies. (Scary, not gory). We live in a house that possibly pre-dates indoor plumbing, it makes noises on its own. Add a scary movie to the mix and no one here to protect me from my imagination, and, well, you can see what a bad idea that is.
There’s no getting around the fact that just about every facet of my life has changed because of this.
I resent it.
If I chose this (like getting a divorce) then it would be on me to suck it up and deal with the consequences. But I didn’t choose this, and I’m tired of unexpected consequences, the ones I expect are bad enough.
As C would say fuckity, fuck, fuck!
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