1. I hate the two leftover lasagna noodles in the box. They just rattle around in there, sadly staring at each other, waiting for a can of olives or pickles to land on them and crush them. Every time I'm in the store, I feel like pulling a Steve-Martin-in-Father-of-the-Bride and ripping out exactly the amount of noodles I need.
2. Sundays. Sigh. They are not for the faint of heart. In fact, I wanted to post this on Sunday, but it was such a Sunday, I'm still recovering from its effects.
3. Is there such a thing as picking the right line at the supermarket? Or is the "right line" simply an urban legend, like "pop rocks and soda can kill you" or "celebrities are just like us" or "children who listen the first time." (Have you also gotten stuck behind the young couple paying their grocery bill in 5 shekel coins?)
4. When I talk to myself, I actually talk. Like, my mouth forms words and my voice box makes sounds. Am I alone here?
5. I used to dislike short stories. Why bother getting invested in characters when three pages later you have to forget all about them and learn about new characters? But I recently discovered, thanks to a book of short stories from DADZ, that they are a mom's best friend. You know when you sit down to read a book, and five minutes later you have to stop to break up a fight/clean up a spill/appear to be listening to someone? Well, with a short story that's okay! By the time your attention is needed elsewhere, you've finished the story! You feel accomplished! You actually read a story that did not involve small animals getting ready for bed, that had paragraphs and a font size smaller than 36! Go you!
The granola of my discontent
1 day ago