But, since I started this blog in the first place to get over a bad case of writer's block, I really need to write something every day, even if it's nothing of consequence. I just need to get back in the habit of getting words on the page, even if they're pointless words on a virtual page.
All of this is just a warning to the three people who still read this thing that much mundanity is to follow.
Mostly, I think I've been a bit distracted. I swear if I could have two coherent thoughts in a row my brain would explode. Example? This weekend Husband and I went to Target. He wanted an under-the-bed storage bin to store some stuff, to make room in our media closet.
Doesn't media closet sound spiffy and upscale? So much better than the closet where we stuff the bazillion VHS tapes that are now completely obsolete.
So, we went to Target, and I thought while we were there I would look for a deep saute pan with a lid. Because when I watch Rachel Ray's 30 minute meals, I hardly ever want to eat what she's cooking, but I always lust after that one pan she always uses - the deep oval one, with the lid. And we did find a few, but they were expensive, like over fifty dollars expensive. And I probably don't have to remind you how cheap I am. But then I found one for 25 bucks, which seemed like a deal, so I threw it in the basket.
Because it was Target, we also ended up getting several pair of shorts and some shirts for The Boy, and I got some toiletries (really just face wipes, but I think media closet sort of set a toney tone for this post, and feel the need to keep it up) and some beach towels and a really cute tub with handles that is a beverage tub but is perfect for hauling stuff to the beach and a game for one of the zillion electronic game thingys we have and I am so terrible at I don't bother to learn their names. And of course the ginormous under-the-bed storage bin that spurred the whole outing.
When we checked out, the total was higher than I was expecting, which is always the case at Target because I always buy extra stuff. As we were walking out I checked the receipt and realized that the saute pan was actually one of the fifty-something-dollar pans. So we went straight to the return desk and handed it over. I briefly considered keeping it, because it seemed like fate, but then I decided that if it were fate, I wouldn't have discovered the switch until I got home, but the fact that I found it less than two steps away from the checkout counter meant fate wanted me to return it.
We got home and put everything away and handed out the pressies (Clothes! Beach towels! such excitement!) and told The Saga of the Saute Pan and I settled in to watch the paint drying channel. And about fifteen minutes later, Husband walked into the room and said, "What happened to the bin?"
Yup - we managed to make it home without the thing we went to the store to get in the first place.