Worms

I took out the ironing board two days ago and now I'm never putting it back.  Sometimes you just have to let go and allow yourself a free-standing junk shelf smack dab in the middle of your living room.  And if other people have a problem with that, they can just leave.  (People who stay without raising objection to either the junk shelf itself or the junk resting upon it get unlimited mugs of peppermint hot chocolate.)

This Thanksgiving it's just going to be cute husband and me.  As I was reading the Bon Appetit article about how to cook a perfect Thanksgiving turkey I realized, hey! that's never going to happen!  And so I read books instead and drank a sixth cup of coffee.

Sometimes life can seem a total unpredictable mess--that is, I have a post-graduate degree and I work in a bookstore, cute husband is searching like a mad man for a job that has something (anything!) to do with the legal profession--and it's very easy to let it all upset you.  Sometimes when I get home at night I tell cute husband that I want to crawl in a hole and eat worms.  It's my favorite saying left over from childhood.  Thing is, cute husband's response is always: "I'm not letting you do that!  There's no way!  If you insist on doing it, I'm coming down there with you, and we're both eating worms!  Do you want me eating worms?"  

And then you realize, life ain't really so bad.  At all.