|40% discount means I can afford to buy the special trash bags for my beloved, yay|
The job is sort of soothingly repetitive. It's also a buttload of exercise (hello, 15,000 steps on truck day!), so that's helpful, too, in a self-care sort of way. I start early in the morning before the store opens, 3 days a week, and it suits me fine not to be waiting on customers for the entirety of a 6-hour shift. I mean, I'm sociable, but I'm not THAT sociable.
|Obligatory ice-cream-at-the-beach photo|
|Upstate New York, that Shangri-La of no humidity|
Those of you well-versed in The More, The Messier lore might recall that we visited these same friends at their place in Lake Placid almost 6 years ago, a visit during which I came down with the head cold from hell that turned into the month-long coughing fit from hell. Ever since, I've entertained the irrational notion that I will get sick and ruin the visit if we dare to go up there again. COVID didn't help, of course, because what more could a gracious host want than to be stuck indefinitely with a quarantined, plague-ridden guest?