February 25, 2007

Well, dang it all. That was hardly a snowstorm of the week, let alone a snowstorm of the decade. I think we've got maybe 4. Maybe 6 inches. A little more or less. Yawn.

I do believe, dear people, this is a sure sign of the global warming.

Back in my day, when I walked 200 miles to school, barefooted in a snowstorm, every day, even during the summer, we had lots of snow in Minnesota.

Now we get all excited when there's a snowstorm approaching.

Alcohol consumption for the weekend so far: 1 1/2 glasses of the white zin. If I am truly an alcoholic, I really suck at it. Can you be an alcoholic just because you write about alcohol alot? And if so, can I check into a clinic?

I'm just trying to get out of doing the laundry is all.

Thor and I sat down yesterday and worked on the design for the kitchen island. I thought it would turn into a fisticuff event. Dork Boxing. Alas, not even a swear word was thrown. We tend to get a little heated when we've got ideas in our heads and can't browbeat our partner into doing it the way we see it.

Dang. Where's the drama in cooperation?

He's out in his little woodshop of horrors right now, working with a neighbor/friend on something for the neighbor/friend's house.

I should go out there and pretend that I'm pissed because they're not working on our project. But really, I don't care. Now that I see forward motion with the discussion of an island design, I'm happy for the time being.

Did I tell you that I have simplified the eating at this house full of picky eaters and teenagers?

I've turned the place into a home-based Quiznos. Stealing their sandwich ideas and putting our oven's broiler to some serious usage.

Good gravy, Mabel. If I could get the family to just exist on different sandwiches, hot and cold, my life would be so streamlined.

Suckers.

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