Fastidiousness

I identify with the guy in that Julia Roberts movie.  I, too, want the hand towels in my bath room to be "just so".  But I'm not a sociopath.  You've got to draw the line somewhere.

Ridiculousness

I am sitting at Barnes & Noble writing this blog post on my iPhone. I am the coolest person I know.

I don't know many people.

Madness

Today I got two letters in the mail from my insurance company.  The first one I opened said I had overpaid my premium due to a "processing error" (whatever THAT means), and that I would be receiving a refund check.

With dollar signs dancing in my eyes, I opened the second letter.  And I found my great big refund check of...drum roll, please...$0.17.  That is not a typo.  Seven...teen...cents.

This company paid postage to send two letters, processed two pieces of paper, in order to pay me $0.17.  I will have to deposit this into my bank account, undoubtedly via ATM, so there's gas, time, envelope, etc.  The bank will use their resources to credit this whopping refund to my account. 

All told I figure the world as a whole is in the hole, oh, $75.  Is it any wonder insurance premiums never drop?

I'd almost let it go, keep it as a conversation piece, but, well, I'm too damn cheap for that.  Seventeen cents is seventeen cents.  Doesn't mean I can't call it stupid.

Beds

I have a love/hate relationship with beds. Don't get me wrong - some of my best sleeping has been done in beds (and that's not a euphemism, I mean zzz's).

It took me around three years to commit to my current mattress. A year to decide queen versus king (king won - I guess mine is a patriarchal domain). The rest of the time was divided between looking, deciding, balking on price, giving up, waiting, repeating. The above processes were not necessarily consecutive nor sequential.

Then came sheets. Why are they so complicated? I don't blame the sheet manufacturers. I blame the mattress companies. Why can't there be a standardized thickness so all sheets will just fit? It works for electrical outlets. Why is their product so proprietary?

Sheets either refuse to stretch enough to work, or in my recent experience, have enough fabric leftover to make pillowcases.

Long story short (too late), I've had the bed nearly a year, and just upgraded the sheets. (Yep, I'm geeky enough that I said upgraded relative to household furnishings.) Sometimes I just like to stop and appreciate the fact that I can take four years to make decisions, and nobody can say a damn thing about it.

Emptiness

When you aren't sure what to do with a room, let your stocking cap decide.

Nothing

I had a least three ideas for new blogs earlier in the week, and let them - poof! - float right out of my head.  Sorry, Phil.  I need to start writing my nuggets of wisdom down so I can expound on them later.

I do want to express my excitement of the progress my friend Sarah is making on her uncluttering.  I take credit for support and occasional guidance, but the hard work is all hers.  I'm very proud!

Today is a lazy Friday off, a mental health day of sorts.  I'm celebrating twelve years with the hubby this weekend, eight married.  I think the last three have probably been the best.  But don't tell him that.

Knots

Why is it that my left shoe always comes untied at least four times more often than my right shoe?  Do I have a abnormal gait?  Is it a conspiracy my left shoe has to trip me, and the right shoe won't follow?

Manners

Open letter to the person who sat beside me at the Barter Theatre last week:

Smacking gum and loudly popping bubbles during a public performance is rude.

Sincerely,

Annoyed

To any of my rabid readers (all, what, two of you?) who can find time to do so, go see the Barter's performance of Alice in Wonderland.  C'est magnifique!

Laundry

Laundry bores me.  I dislike laundry.  I only recently figured out why.

There's no surprise.  No mystery. 

My laundry doesn't even have the gumption to magically disappear.  I've heard fairy tales of a mystical land where missing socks run away:  breed, and raise baby socks; live happily ever after.

The white socks I put into the washer?  They come out of the dryer.  I have to fold them, and put them away.

Laundry, how you disappoint me.

Waiting

Every day that passes is just another in a long line of days that I'm waiting for something to happen.  During that time, things happen that annoy me.  Frustrate me.  And generally make me wish I weren't.  Waiting.

But I keep doing it.  Maybe one day, I'll know why.