I made oatmeal and organized my closet. I vacuumed and dusted. I wrote some cards. The air was perfect for jogging and I had just figured out why my mp3 player hadn't been letting me upload new podcasts (hidden files filled with deleted tracks—I had no idea such things existed), so I took a run. When I got back, I was still feeling particularly domestic, so I decided to tackle the jobs that had been lined up in my sewing queue all semester.
First I patched a pair of five-year-old jeans. They're still wearable, I swear.
Then I used the same fabric to make a pillow. I got it from a remnant bin for like 75 cents, and I still have a decent swath left. That's a deal, I'd say.
I also rode my bike to OB and sat on the sand to finish part I of Notes From Underground by Dostoevsky. And now I'm at work. The end.
5 comments:
heheh remember when we were looking for the reminents...
"I don't work here."
lol
Oh yes...though it was more like:
"[Thinking it odd that a young guy would be working in the crafts department] Hi, where's your remnant section?"
"The what?"
"The remnants."
"Remnants?"
"[Thinking that even though he's a guy, he's working in the crafts section, so he should at least know what remnants are] Yeah, you know, like extra pieces of fabric...[looking at his nametag more closely] You don't work here, do you..."
One Christmas break when I was home from college we had a lot of fun going up to people in stores who clearly didn't work there and saying; "You look like you work here, where can I find such and such..." For some reason they almost always looked insulted that I thought they looked like somebody who would work in the dollar store, supermarket, or wherever my Christmas shopping adventure brought me. I remember one older gentleman in particular who had the look of success and wealth about him. He stank of cologne amd was one of those business types who wears more jewelry than most women could get away with (including a big fat watch on both wrists). I walked up to him in the aisle of a supermarket and said, "You look like you work here, do you know if you guys sell plungers?" He looked at me like I was some sort of horrific serpent, and said with disdain "Find your own *@%# plunger."
Why two watches? In case one hand is momentarily incapacitated? Ridiculous...
thats a great idea. kaitlin next time you are with us at wall-mart then we should so do that.
Post a Comment