You couldn't ask for a prettier Memorial Day here in Dubs-R-J, Vermont. Today's plans include studying, not napping, buying a long extension cord so I can vacuum my rig, and buying some groceries.
My grocery list never changes. Here it is: 5 ready-tomorrow bananas, 1 carton of vanilla soy milk, 1 four-pack of cottage cheese, 1 box of Kashi hot cereal (any flavor but raisin spice), 1 cucumber (which I always intend to eat but never do), 6 cans of soup (specifically Wolfgang Puck tomato basil and Amy's no chicken noodle), 1 container of herb salad mix, 1 box of Triscuit rosemary and olive oil crackers, 1 twelve-pack of pomegranate Polar seltzer water, 2 Lake Champlain milk chocolate bars (which I always intend to eat and always do), and 1-2 Amy's vegan frozen pizzas. I could successfully work my way through the grocery store blind at this point.
I spent this past weekend in the Adirondacks, eating Ten's dad's soup, napping, and helping Ten's parents move the living room furniture. It was fun. And I learned something new about Ten: she becomes quite the dictator when it comes time to rearrange a room! Castro of the cushion, if you will. Salazar of the sofa. Future ruler of the Ottoman empire, I think.
I suppose I'm just going to let her handle that part of our relationship (along with car repair, home repair, banking, laundry, cleaning, cooking, pet duties, and making the bed).
I have been so sleepy lately!! Surely Ten's parents think I'm a slacker because every time I start to study I doze off. I can't figure out what's going on. I'm getting enough sleep each night, but I wake up every morning feeling like I could sleep for another four hours. I think I have a neurodegenerative condition, but Ten thinks I'm just lazy. (Who does she think she is? The Stalin of sleep? Mussolini of motivation?)
In other news, my lap top sounds like a helicopter landing, and I fear its days may be numbered. Why does it seem like the more expensive an item, the shorter its life? I'm starting to regret having cost my parents so much money all these years...