Yesterday

7:24 a.m.

Thanks for your lovely suggestions. Last night I spent a lot of time looking at Charleston, the Outer Banks, and daydreaming about Hawaii. And interspersing it with "Justin, did you know this?" and "Hey Justin, this place has this!" and "Justin, what about this?" (Which I'm sure he appreciated since he was knee-deep in applications for jobs.) Then I got completely overwhelmed and had to stop. We were told to just figure out a package to wherever and then let the giver know, and they would buy it, which I admit is awesome and amazing and awkward. We'd never ask for Hawaii or something--it wouldn't be right to ask for the most expensive place. The guilt! The guilt. But it was interesting to see all the beaches.

But, isn't that an awesome wedding present? A honeymoon? I can't believe it. I think otherwise we would have gone camping for a few days around here, where it will still be cold at night. Or done nothing.

We want to go/do something super mellow and relaxing. Justin will have just finished his thesis and graduate program, I will likely have finished up with two years of a strangely wonderful but horribly stressful job, we'll have gotten MARRIED, and figured out, you know, our future. Immediately after the honeymoon we will probably move away, to a different state, and start things all over again.

Therefore we want to go somewhere warm and happy and calm, maybe pretty secluded, and just lay around and enjoy each other's presence. We don't need to plan activities, and we don't need a nightlife. Etc. We'll just want to relax. I'm hoping for lots of naps and wine and maybe sand. A little interlude of serenity sandwiched between long periods of stress.

Yesterday was a fairly stupid day, and made researching secluded beaches much more mouth-watery and delicious. I went to work, which is a horrible start to ANY day, yes? I came home at lunch, like normal. At the end of my lunch break, the dog started to puke, which is bad news when your dog is 82 pounds and eats frozen rotten jack-o-lanterns out of the snow covered compost heap. So Justin was all "Nooooooooooooooooooo!" and dragged the dog toward the door, or at least to the laundry room where there is no carpet.

This is where he was greeted with the Huge Nasty Puddle of Leak, and this puddle is where the dog decided to vomit.

GOOD JOB, DOG.

Thanks for making our little flood vomit traced.

So I had to go back to work.

But then I talked to Justin on the phone and there is a crack where all the melting snow was going (because it was warm, warm, warm yesterday). And Justin had job applications due and a project due and I left work to get supplies and come help. I selected a huge cheap mop, rubber gloves, etc, and got to the checkout lane, and after the girl rang me up I discovered I didn't have my wallet.

Perfect!

There was much searching and rooting through my purse, then sighing, but then I found my checkbook, and smugly wrote a check. She started to process the check and then cringed as she whispered, "It wants your driver's license number. I'm sorry."

Perfect!

So I left my cart there, went home, found my wallet, changed out of my skirt and tights and tall boots (stupid work) into my painting clothes, and high tailed it back to the store. And bought my stuff.

And came home again.

By then Justin mostly had it cleaned up, even though I told him to wait and I would do it.

Then my boss called to see if I had the mess cleaned up because I'm going to the other town's store location to clean and organize tomorrow. Since the weather's nice. The town over the mountain!

To clean!

Perfect.

I can still sort of smell dog vomit mixed with dirty water. Just faintly, you know. Just faintly.

Mmmm.

Beaches.

Love,
black sheep