Yep. I meant that.
There’s really no witty wit coming your way here. And no, that doesn’t mean you should stop reading. We have a commitment here…for better or worse, Internet. And because I’m committed to you, I feel I should keep you updated on what’s happening with me, even when those things are so boring they make me fall asleep. So wham-bam-thank-you-ma’m, here we go.
One Reason to Be Proud of Me:
I got my oil changed. I even got new windshield wiper blades and my tires rotated! (They had begun to cup, and I don’t know what that means at all; I only know that the man on the phone said, “Your tires are beginning to cup,” in a very grave tone, and I was all, ‘”Oh my gosh, that sounds TERRIBLE, please fix that, Mr. Fix It!) I only hope there was no judgement at the cookie in my console or the recycling bin of Starbucks cups I’ve started on my floorboard.
One Thing To Make You Happy:
Spotify. If you’re not using this to create playlists to keep you occupied at work, then I don’t know what you’re doing at work. (I’m actually at work right now. Maybe you should start a blog?) Anyway, supposedly it’s all brand new in the US and you have to get an invite. It sounds like maybe they’re being stingy in handing those suckers out, but I really don’t think so because everyone’s all jumping on the Spotify bandwagon, and I hope you do, too, because it’s the bomb.com. And this leads me to…
The First Thing you Should Add on Spotify:
Well, I went for the Avett Brothers, and I stand by my decision. But what I really want you to do is listen to Coconut Records. I’m only telling you this because I think music is meant to be shared and I’m listening to them right this second and I’m in a really great mood. It could be one of those causation vs. correlation conundrums, but I’m banking on it being directly related.
One True Story
Today, I was a friend. My friend Coston likes doughnuts, so I snagged him one at my work meeting. I put it in a napkin. I took it with me. I held it while Janie drove me to pick up my car across town. I held it while I inquired about my car. I held it while I sat on the couch in the waiting room for half an hour. I held it while I tried to pleasantly nudge the Nissan men to hello, get my car. I held it while I signed the paperwork to release my car. And as I was walking out the door, the man helping me said, “Ma’m, you can eat your doughnut now.” I looked at him and said, very honestly, “Oh, this doughnut in my hand? I’m just holding it for someone.” And then I took it back across town and gave it to Coston. But I’m pretty sure the patrons of Nissan thought I was lying.
I had ice cream for lunch, and a doughnut for dessert. I can do that. Because I’m a grown-up.