Last Thursday I went out for Happy Hour with two girlfriends. Somehow laundry came up (as in we all had to go home and do some). I admitted that in college I came up with a formula for never doing laundry. Just buy lots and lot of socks and underwear then never clean until you are out of fresh versions of those. This theory carried over into my post-college life but somehow lately several (more than three) pairs of underwear had gone astray and I had searched high and low for them.
This kind of ruins the Clean Underwear Theory of washing clothes. So tonight I finally did laundry (AmigaBoy did some laundry and managed to catch me up a couple days) and I am almost can't say this. I found my missing underwear.
Under. The. Bed.
You know that thing I sleep on? And it took me weeks (as in more than two) to find them. I should crawl in a hole and die but just now I am super excited because I won't have to wash anything else for a good long time, now.
In the several year history of this blog I haven't ever titled a post without capitals (um, I think).
I haven't posted in a long time and I think it is just that I can't get out from under. Friends dying, other friends receiving horrible news from their doctors, death and dying in the news. All of it makes me feel as if my little spot here is pretty much a waste.
Yet, it stays. My little, almost-colorful spot on the internet. So here I am promising pictures from Costa Rica, our newly trimmed up yard, and maybe a picture here and there of the pigs that are all over downtown Seattle.