Mis Escritos Y Pensamientos

I have a disease. At least I think I do. See it seems that every time something new in my life happens, I need to compartmentalize and commemorate said event by sharing it with you in a new blog. I know, I have about 7 of them now, although I only update this one and my Facebook; however, I am starting another new blog. I will still write here, because it's a great place for randimosity and no need for correct grammar. My new blog is all about my new adventures of being a housewife, so check it out. Some of the posts there will be the same as some on here, but not all of them. So, check it out, ask me questions, comment on my many mistakes that are sure to come. Check it out here.

I wasn't completely surprised when I glanced at the time and saw that it was already 10 a.m. Since doctors recommend 8-10 hours of sleep, I have no guilt about sleeping until 10 when I don't go to sleep until 2 in the morning. An unusually warm apartment keeps my awake, as well as a new environment. Finally I got out of bed, showered and headed to the kitchen. In my fridge I knew there was a wonderful treasure. (No, I am not speaking about pickles, although, they too are a wonderful treasure.) I am referring to the tomatoes that were supposed to go home with my parents, but got left here instead. Aahhh...what a great sacrifice they made for me. I had bacon in the bottom drawer and a new toaster to try out. After several minutes, and a few near catastrophes with a couple of ornery eggs, my husband and I sat down to a wonderful brunch. The poor boy had never been introduced to such a lovely meals as bacon, egg, tomato and cheese on toast. He's lucky he married me.

Then it was off to work. My apartment was still a mess, and I had to get motivated to get things done. Luckily I learned some time in the past year that I am very goal oriented. I need to set an attainable goal, and then I feel satisfaction in seeing thing completed. I wrote down the name of each room in my house on a separate sheet of paper (eg: kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, etc...), and then drew them out randomly. I couldn't do anything in the next room until I finished the room I was on. It worked like a charm. I finished three rooms in one day! Of course, I still don't have any clothes unpacked (the darn bedroom paper must have stuck to the bottom).

Soon the temperature began to rise again. I watched as the thermometer snuck to the upper 80's. Remembering my plight with the pickles, this day I reverted to a new means of keeping cool. It was definitely one of the highlights of my day. I pulled my frozen bananas out of the fridge. They were delightful, just the thing that I needed. I even shared one with Bert. (He had never had a frozen banana. He sure is getting cultured living with me, the brave soul.) Now, there are some things that you should perhaps know about frozen bananas. Obviously, they are cold, so I will not go over that. However, the best way to freeze them is to cut them in half, not long ways, just across the middle. Then, stick them on a fork, this way you can eat them like a popsicle, but they are so much better for you! Also, and this is of the utmost importance...make sure you peel them before you freeze them! I have learned this lesson from the wisdom of others, thank you for teaching me from your mistakes.

As I unloaded the groceries, trying to find a spot for each item, and crying at the same time, I realized that things will never be the same again. Don't take my crying as a sign that I am living a miserable life. That's not true. It was more of all of the emotion from the last month finally welling to the top of my head and spilling out of my eyes. Day Camp seems ages ago, then there was the wedding, honeymoon, and the saying goodbyes and moving. I had been so busy through it all, that I keep forgetting that I turned 24 in the midst of all of that. Sheesh.

The long awaited (and dreaded) Thursday finally arrived. We left with all of our stuff, and Bert's car packed into two trailers. It took us 8 hours to get to Clarksville, and when we got here, I was a little miffed to discover that we couldn't get into the apartment for another couple of hours. Finally, we got in, as well as getting all of our stuff in. I had no idea I had so many books. I think there are still 7 or more boxes of just my books that are packed away.

It was amazing to have family here for the first couple of days to helps us move furniture, hang things, and wash and wash all kinds of new dishes and kitchen appliances. Oh, my kitchen...I doubt this "quaint" kitchen has ever been packed so tightly. There was hardly any room for any food. So, when we hit the checkout line at Wal-Mart, and gazed into the overflowing cart, I realized that it would take a miracle to fit it all into my kitchen. That is indeed what happened. After some more crying (see aforementioned disclaimer above) I opened up a cabinet next to my refrigerator. It was like finding a 20 dollar bill on the ground. It was completely empty. Quickly I grabbed the bag of potatoes and onions and threw them in.

Apartments have their own personalities. Ours has several little quirks, which I can live with, but the one that annoys me the most (at least at this moment) is the "air conditioning." First of all, in my opinion, there is no need for it to be 7 p.m. and it still over 90 degrees outside. That is just absurd. Our little brick apartment likes the sun. It likes it a lot, and as it passes over our roof and onto the west side, my living room gets warmer and warmer. I took a nap on my couch today, surviving the warmth with our new fan blowing on me, when about an hour later, the warm room woke me up. After making sufficient complaints to my husband, and inwardly pronouncing curses on the evil ball of burning gas in the sky, I headed to the refrigerator. What I needed was something cool and refreshing. I had the perfect solution to my conundrum. I headed to the fridge and got out one of my favorite new items. It's a wonderful invention from the Tupperware company. You open the lid, pull on the handle, and walla! crisp, cold pickles come out. I love pickles. I have every since I was little, and my parents let me drink the juice from the jar when the pickles were gone. I grabbed the container and headed back to the couch. Before I knew it, I had eaten six baby dills. I watched my husband as he sat across from me, wondering how many I could eat before he took them away from me like had had done the day before. For some reason, he has this notion that I should not eat a jar of pickles a day. I agree...that is unless the AC is not working.