Part one is here.
Following: I have no money for overseas travel, but I’ve recently become addicted to following airplane ticket prices/sales to destinations out of the U.S. We could go to Jamaica for $790 round trip in mid-December. Even if we could scrounge up $790 we probably wouldn’t be able to eat when we got there. We are so spoiled.
Noticing: There’s one flower outside that refuses to die from coldnessness.
Knowing: I may not have made it to anyone’s 30 Under 30 or 40 Under 40 list, but there’s still time for 50 Under 50. Also? I don’t really care about lists. I could still finish my novel at 46. And I hate the suggestion that accomplishments past 30 or 40 aren’t worth being noticed for. Uh-oh, you’re 41, too late.
Thinking: These clothes have been sitting in the living room, clean, for more than two weeks. No one has a hamper upstairs for newly dirty clothes because they’re all in the living room, still. How long will it take before I empty the contents on folks’ beds?
Admiring: Ava. Everything Ava.
Sorting: I’m sorting through clothes to see what to keep and what needs to go. Who wants to bet what happened with the winter coat last year happens to something else I intended on keeping? Call it.
Getting: My hair braided. I can’t wait. The ease of having short hair really only works for me when it’s warm out. The wash and go is so simple. But wetting it every morning is a chore when it’s cold out. Last week I wore my head wrap to work three days (kept it on for one) and wet my hair there. It’s less professional than you would imagine having one’s head in the sink at the office. Even less so is toweling it dry with a Bratz-themed towel.
Bookmarking: There are so many tabs open on my computer right now. Four of them relate to painting wood furniture because eventually I’ll get to this buffet I’m turning into a bedroom dresser. Turning into = painting it, changing the handles, and moving it from the dining room to the bedroom.
Coveting: DID YOU NOT READ PART ONE ABOUT THE ELECTRIC BLANKET?
Disliking: Oh, boy. There’s a whole post I could do on this (ooh, look! Ideas!) but historically, it’s gum popping. Immediately, it’s littering. Trash can was right there, bruh.
Opening: I’m convinced our mortgage holder is selling information. I keep getting mail from these “We’ll buy your house” people. There’s never an address, just a phone number (sure, that seems reputable!). It incenses me and I’m not sure why I don’t just throw them away. I feel compelled to contact them to tell them to leave us alone; if we wanted to sell we would and probablydefinitely it wouldn’t be through them. I think it’s the audacity. I don’t believe they’re random. Are the neighbors getting these? I think if you’ve paid late a certain amount of times or if you’re behind, the mortgage company is selling that information. When we first were looking to buy, we absolutely cruised neighborhoods we were interested in and contacted owners of ones that didn’t seem lived in. We heard back from a few who explained that the house had been in the family for years and they were still deciding what to do. But this is different. This feels like predatory communications and I wish there were a way to find out if my suspicion is true.
Giggling: Did you hear about the Italian chef? He pasta-way. How does a barber cut the moon’s hair? Eclipse it. No, no, don’t go! I have so many more!
Feeling: Blah about the holidays while simultaneously shouting in my head HOLIDAYS, YAY.
Snacking: I’m trying to be more mindful about what I eat and drink. Snacking at work is the worst if I don’t bring my own. The only things remotely healthy in our general snack area is popcorn. I’m so sick of popcorn. We were out of popcorn so I bought some more.
Hearing: I’ve been on a Corinne Bailey Rae kick lately. I do not regret this.