Thursday, January 12, 2012

Distressing Things From A Pampered First-World Girl

A random list of (trivial) distressing things:

I wish I'd ordered the grande instead of the tall coffee this morning when I HAD to stop by Target for a few things.  (The fact that Starbucks is located there was just a happy coincidence... I swear.)

My kitchen and living room smell like Fruity Pebbles... and I cannot figure out why.

I am the only person currently living in this house who knows that trash goes IN the trash can.  Everyone else seems to be of the mindset that as long as the garbage is in the general vicinity of the can, it's all good.  No.  No, no, NO.

Toothpaste smears.  Need I say more?

Clutter.  The effing clutter is going to drive me batshit insane one of these days.  I put it away, someone brings it back out.  I donate stuff to Goodwill, the next day 6 boxes arrive from Amazon.com bearing more crap.  (Yes P, I'm talking to YOU.) Sometimes I think we are one bout of flu (and me not being able to clean for a week) from an episode of Hoarders.

Sad songs.  Sometimes a sad song (or at least it's sad to ME) is on every single station.  It's like the radio Gods are saying "Psst.  Hey, Dawn... yeah, you.  Got a little something for you... it's called 'The Song That Reminds You Of A Bad/Painful Time'.  Enjoy!  Oh, and PS... you can't get away, so don't even try."

Jeggings.  Jeggings are ugly and evil, and should be banned for anyone over the age of 10.

The 'mystery stain' on the living room carpet that nobody (not even the dog) will admit to having caused.

Toilet paper.  More accurately, the speed at which it disappears in a household with three girls/women.  I am constantly putting more TP out, replacing rolls, and making emergency runs to the bathroom with a new roll.

School reading logs.  Dude, I read to my kids almost every day, and have been since they were too young to even care.  I resent being asked to write down everything I read my kids, and being treated like a slacker criminal who never reads to her kids when I forget to mark it down.  Sheesh!


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