What are we talking about today?

I'll get back to theme days once I find a groove of posting regularly. In the meantime, most of my posts are about some variation of books, bikes, buses, or Broadway. Plus bits about writing, nonprofits, and grief from time to time.

This blog is mostly lighthearted and pretty silly. It's not about the terrible things happening in the world, but please know that I'm not ignoring those things. I just generally don't write about them here.

22 December 2010

Sunday

Chad wakes me up 15 minutes early.
I say "Grr-mmmhh-aarrrgh," which is Su for "If you don't stop poking me I'll pluck your nose hairs."
Chad goes away and then comes back to ask if I'm really going to sleep for 15 more minutes.
I give in and get up.
Chad informs me that a cup of tea does not qualify as breakfast.
I ignore him.
He continues to harass me.
I give in and have half a peanut butter sandwich.
I turn on my computer and cash in my 250 tabs in Chrome for a Cause. (Charity: Water. Which one did you choose?)
Chad says it's time to go.
I check the clock. He's right.
We race down to the bus stop and wait for five minutes.
We're still waiting.
Bus arrives. We get halfway to church and the driver gets off and goes for a stroll.
After church our gang discusses where to eat. Tres Amigos wins.
We discuss hunting, ethanol, and whether the migas are any good.
Someone from church at another table buys lunch for the six of us. Awwww!
At home I make a grocery list and check the bus schedule.
We almost miss our stop.
We check Sears for the presence of Christmas bears. None there.
We go into HEB and then back out because we forgot a basket.
We're going the wrong way around the store so we get our frozen stuff first. Oops.
We stand in the tea section for five minutes and then leave with no tea.
We stand in the eggnog section for five minutes and then leave with no eggnog.
We wander in the produce section for 20 minutes and leave with a stack of vegetables.
The bus stop is across the freeway.
Good thing there's a pedestrian crossing at the underpass.
A bus comes. It's the wrong one.
We get on it anyway.
Chad insists that even though there are five Cameron Road stops, we shall only refer to one of them as The Cameron Road stop.
The bus lets us off at the Cameron Road stop.
We wait for the next bus. It's late.
Chad tries to talk to the deaf people next to him but he only knows a couple of signs.
He starts playing Shadow with me and gets on my nerves.
I move so he can't watch me.
He rings the bell for our stop.
Time for wassail.
But first I need to unload the dishwasher.
And put away the groceries.
I get the wassail going in the crock pot.
Chad needs clean laundry for work.
I berate him for leaving a trail of dirty socks around the house.
Time to write a blog post!
My Facebook friends are funny.
Ooh, a book to read.
I just thought of another blog post.
The laundry is washed and needs drying.
Is the wassail ready yet?
Mmmm. Citrus-y.
Chad doesn't like the wassail.
More for me!
I hang up the laundry so Chad doesn't have to wear wrinkled shirts.
Another cup of wassail.
I think I just swallowed a clove.
Should I check WebMD to see if I'll die of clove poisoning? Nah.
I have a clever Facebook status.
Holy smokes! It's 10 already?

No comments: