I'm rich! I'm fabulously wealthy!
Last winter I bought some socks as a gift for my new shoes (Danskos I purchased just before xmas last year), and the pair of socks I'm wearing today are my favorite and I love them very much. They are angora and I bought them from TJ Maxx so they weren't heinously expensive or anything ($6, I think), but every time I wear them I feel like the richest person ever. It's pretty cold here today, supposed to be about 35 degrees, so I broke out these socks, and man oh man. I think I might have to buy more angora socks; as a gift for the Danskos, of course. It truly doesn't take much to make me feel rich--I was thinking about that recently. My down comforter makes me feel rich, as does having a lot of clean underpants in my drawer and good-smelling soap in my shower. I feel rich when it's cold outside and warm in my house, and when I'm sitting on the futon with a cat on my lap and a glass of wine in my hand. This is good, because these things Do make me rich. Not rich by western standards, but rich in comparison to most of the people in the world, and I want to remember that I'm rich so I don't take things for granted. Sometimes it takes a power outage in an ice storm to remind me not to take things for granted, but so be it. They said on the news this morning that today is the anniversary of last year's ice storm, during which the three of us and the cats had to huddle up in the big bed under down comforters at 6 in the evening to avoid extreme shivering--it was a misery. We got our electricity back after about 24 hours, which was lucky, and we were so grateful for hot showers, hot coffee, lights and heat. I know they only mentioned the anniversary of the ice storm because it's a slow news day and they needed some filler, but it's good to be reminded of how miserable we can be when the things we take for granted are gone. And lordy lord, I hope there's not another ice storm this year, because that one we had last year sucked mightily.
It was so hard to get out of bed this morning. We stayed up watching South Park last night but I still intended to get up at 5:45 and finish wrapping the xmas gifts we have so far. When 5:45 rolled around, I turned off the alarm and stayed in bed. Finally got up just after 7:00, which made me an hour late for work, because I felt the need to sit around with coffee and peanut butter toast for half an hour or so. Being an hour late is not a big deal in my office, and I worked through lunch to make it up, but still, I prefer getting to work earlier than that. The guilt, you know. I like wrapping xmas gifts, though. Last night I started wrapping them while Francisco worked on dinner (that meatloaf is soooo good), and then when we were having dinner Lucy wandered in among the gifts and paper (on the floor) and barfed. Fortunately she missed puking on anything but the carpet, but it was a narrow miss, and I can just picture me getting them all wrapped and pretty under the tree and having her then come in and puke all over them. I love my cats, but come ON. Enough is enough. I'm issuing them a memo.
The remote-control fart machine has been getting a pretty good workout. Boy has hidden it in my closet and activated it when I'm changing clothes after work. I have hidden it under where he's going to sit and activated it. I've been plotting future places to hide and activate it, and I'm sure Boy has too. I don't know about Francisco--he doesn't seem to be scheming about the fart machine, but you never can tell with him. Sometimes he's hatching plans of extreme complexity and you never know until he strikes. It's all very exciting.
Hokay, Joe, I'm going to finish up here and head home. Have a good night!
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