Garbage in, garbage out

I came home with my arms full of all the stuff I was unloading from the car, opened the door and --OOF-- it hit me, a smell like when you take your trash cans out to the curb on a hot day.

I took out the kitchen trash, which surprised me by not smelling too stenchy. Then I remembered: my purse.

I take my milk to work for my coffee because our incredibly inept cafeteria help often RUNS OUT OF MILK. (Note to cafeteria folks: put it on the list, right above eggs). I take it in a sippy cup because they don't leak.

Well, they don't leak if you screw the lid on.

I didn't, and lost half a sippy cup full of milk when I put the cup in my huge black bag. I know, I know - the word "dumbass" does spring to mind.

I mopped it up, but milk never forgets.

I'm in that kind of overtired mood where you just feel like putting your head in your hands and sobbing for no good reason. But I guess I will try to launder my purse instead.

That was fun

I just got back from a weekend of fun in the Nearest Big City With Any Culture. And old college friend and I went to see what kind of trouble we could get into, which turned out to be not much trouble at all, but we had a good time.

The good time included two nights sleeping on couch cushions on the floor. I had forgotten to ask about sleeping arrangements. My friend brought a cot for me to her mother's house, but if I had known in advance I probably would have booked rooms at the Holiday Inn.

I am notoriously Delicate - my back is a mess and everyone knows it, to the point where, when I told my friend the cot hadn't worked out and I had slept on the floor, she and her 74-year-old mom offered to sleep on the floor and let me have the big bed. That is the kind of good friends they are. But by then I had figured out a good cushion/pillow/Advil arrangement that let me rest somewhat comfortably.

I am actually quite proud of myself for enduring. What a tough little adventurer I am! The next thing you know, I will be travelling without my special pillow. Woo hoo!