Good for nothing friends

I tend to be the type of girl that says "Yes" too often.  This leads to me often being over-committed and well, late to almost everything, all the time.  Its how I roll those that love me accept it and move on those that want more a prompt arrival/departure lie to me about what time I should arrive somewhere, adjusting appropriately for the 30 minute bubble of my definition of "on time".

That being said, there are actually times when I like to do nothing, at all.  Not that tricky dance where nothing=a little something, just nothing. Sit, not talk or only talk as the spirit moves, stare at tv/space/wall whatever is near.  In the midst of the chaos in which I tend to exist, I've somehow managed to acquire girlfriends who will just let me sit.  It happens organically, I have this unplanned expanse of time and end up at their house and often while their family's life is happening around me. I guess that just kind of happens when the majority of your friends have been with you since the 90's. A combination of already knowing your story and no assuming that you're going anywhere anytime soon (even though you might talk about up an moving every 5 years or so) makes it all work out.  Whatever the factors, I dig that I have a bunch of good for nothing friends.

I don't get people

When I go to the store to pick up an item, I take my wallet with me  (the one with the money in it) because I know when I get to said store to pick up said item, they're expecting that I pay for that item.  This entire exchange makes sense to me. Until I get to the store and there is a box of the same item I came to purchase in the same aisle but not in the right spot, and its open, and kind of haphazardly tossed on top of other items on the shelf. 

I know, this is not a good sign. I pick up the box because I'm assuming the worse and I want to be proved wrong. I was not wrong.  The only remaining content of the box was a sad little piece of paper with instructions on how to use a product that was no longer contained in that box.  

So, at some point that day, someone else thought I'm going to go to the store to pick up an item. By pick up they meant secretly tear into the box, stuff the contents of the box in their pants/coat/purse/pocket and go home. And that totally made sense to them.

Even after knowing there was nothing in there, I took the empty box to the counter when I checked out and said "I'm pretty sure I'm the bearer of bad news" and handed the box the clerk because it only seemed right that they should know that someone had stolen from the store.  It even crossed my mind that I could be accused of stealing but I knew I didn't steal it and I couldn't just leave that sad misplaced box there for someone else to just happen upon. So I braced myself for extensive questioning and took a chance by turning in the evidence and apparently, I do not in anyway, shape or form look like a thief. The clerk took the box, obviously disgusted but asked me no questions and sent me on my way with my legit and paid for item. 

 

And now I have already spent too much of time trying to make a nonsensical thing make sense.

When I live in a house (2)

When I live in a house it will be this one (literally, we're under contract and will close on June 30th):

 My favorite room will be this one:

I'll have grown up dinners here:

I'll sit around and chat with friends new and old here:

And I'll be able to offer a place for friends to rest here:

When I live in this house, I will cherish every moment of everyday that I get to do life in the home of my dreams.