Keyboard Confessions

Every week I sit down and confess some things.  Mostly this is just an excuse to write a list.

1.  My Hubs is home.  I am soooo glad.

2.  But wait, you're saying, I didn't even know he was gone!  I know, confusified reader.  It's because I kept that little snippet of info to myself.

3.  Hello, I had just moved to a random town in a new state precisely 900 bajillion miles away from Alabama, live in this crowded complex and was going to be home alone with my two kids.  I totally wasn't going to alert the possible killer neighbor that I was spouseless for 10 whole days, was I?

4.  Of course, now the possible killer neighbor can just come and kill us whilst my Hubs is home.  I hadn't thought of that...

5.  Well, don't worry, worried reader.  I tried to bake some zucchini bread to share with my immediate neighbors, you know, to make them like me and not kill me and hate my kids because they jump instead of walk and stuff, only we live a whole mile above sea level and so therefore my zucchini bread was zucchini bricks.  So, I can always toss a brick at any creepified neighbor.

6.  Seriously, I had to shave the outer layer of the loaf to even find something soft enough to nibble.  Also, because both loaves were not giveable, I had to nibble both loaves.

7.  I bought some shorts.  I know, I'm shocked at my crazy behavior too.

8.  Except, guess what?  The zipper was broken in one of the pairs only I didn't know it until AFTER I came home from an afternoon spent at Chick-fil-A.  I know.  It's a good thing I was wearing bright colored panties so the whole restaurant could see them whilst I was asking for a refill of Diet Coke.

9.  Humility.  Thank you, God, for reminding me to heed my mother's advice and wear clean underwear.

10.  Hubs is home.  This means that I have three people to clean up after now instead of two.  It's a good thing he's so cute and I'm so glad he's home.

11.  No one is digging my Ode.  Except for a few sweet friends, including my awesome friend Marisa, who wrote this awesome short story.  She's way going to be famousy one day, folks.  You just wait.

12.  I've been to our library now three times in one week.  It's like I don't have a life or something.

13.  Also, it's possible I was a wee bit over zealous with my newly acquired library card.  There are seven books on my bedside table.  Seven.  It's like I don't have a life or something.

14.  De ja vu.  It's like I've said that before or something.

15.  I don't know how to do that cute little mark above the de ja vu.

16.  There's an IKEA six hours from me.  I way need to make a road trip.

17.  Anyone speak Swedish?

18.  Also, I hear they pass out meatballs.  This is good.  Now I can just spend my food money on more furniture.

19.  Also, how do you say "Oh man, you got any Febreze?" in Swedish?

20.  Time to go eat a burger.  My life is practically a novel in it's utter coolness.

Peace out, yo.

Ode to a Mattress: the tale of a disgruntled and very sleepy princess

This here is my entry to the Merry Sisters of Fate's contest which is a written piece stemmed from this prompt:

The Princess and the Pea.  I chose an Ode.  Because I do love me some Odes.  Here goes.

Oh you pile of mattresses--

You're mocking me, taunting me with elusive sleep.

I lay all sweetly, with my arms all neatly crossed over my chest.  

Breath all zenlike and close my eyes.  

Ugh.  I toss and turn.

Counting sheep and rearranging covers on my reclined body.

One leg in, one leg out.

Dang.  Shouldn't've had that Diet Coke for dinner.  

I turn on my side, hoping for sleep to steal over me like that one girl,

what’s her name…

Oh yes, Sleeping Beauty.

Where, oh where is a loom with a sharp spindle thingy when you need one?

I flop on my stomach and stuff my face into my pillow.

Down feathers cram their way into my nose

causing a serious sneezing fit.

Exhausted, I lie on my back.

What is that?

Something is digging into my left shoulder blade.

I must find it.  I must find it now.

I must eradicate it, just like I did to that pimple on my forehead.

I climb on hands and knees towards the ladder

perched precariously against my stack of mattresses.

Swinging my legs around and climbing down

on bare toes totally makes me feel all gymnasticsy.

I pass each mattress on my downward trek, all twenty of them.

Quilts of various squashiness and sheets 

sticking out like lettuce on a sandwich.  

Man, I could go for a late night grilled cheese.

I reach the bottom and crouch down on the floor,

trying to peer into the cracks betwixt fabric and mattress.

Somewhere is a Thing.  Surely it’s an orange.

I must perform bedsheet surgery and locate It.

A Princess must have beauty sleep, after all.

At least, that's what Cosmo tells me.  

Not to mention the article about 14 ways to kiss a boy.

But that's another story.

I shove my arm between mattresses and grope with my fingers.

Aha!  There It is!

Grasping It between my fingers, I trap It in my vise of a hand,

draw It out.

It’s...a pea.

A tiny green pea.

What my mother, The Queen, would properly name as

an English Pea.  Because she's way proper like that.

What to do with The Thing?

I cross the room and place it on the windowsill.

It’s far away from my bed- er, beds.

Perhaps now I might get some stinking sleep.

I climb the ladder, toss myself on my pillow.

My eyes close and I slip off to the Land of Nod

and dream.

Of Prince William feeding me...peas.