Birthday Prep

Tomorrow? I turn 54 (which someone pointed out to me is a deck of cards and 2 jokers, and I'm not really sure what that implies, but let's pretend it's somehow meaningful); so I've been busy (this being my birthday week) making sure that tomorrow is a day of unalloyed joy. And by unalloyed joy, I mean that maybe I will get to go to the mall by myself and try on shirts and maybe even find some that fit properly over my matronly bust and waistless middle.

I don't ask for much, people. I really don't.

Meanwhile, Larry can't seem to understand that when he orders gifts from Amazon, the email announcing the purchase AND the email announcing their shipment both go directly to me. So, for the record, it's looking as though he didn't learn much from the bagel slicer incident last year. It's sort of cute, actually, in a clueless sort of way.

You really have to read about the bagel slicer, if you haven't already. It's classic Larry.

Before

So, yeah, busy - I cooked all morning today so I won't have to touch anything in the kitchen tomorrow. Tonight I will scrub the bathrooms, so I don't have to hate myself when I use them tomorrow. In fact, I've been so busy pretending I don't have to do any housework for my birthday, I forgot - until a few minutes ago - to check how my front hall closet was doing.

As you can see there to the right (or left, I can't tell), not too bad. Oh, yeah, there were 3 pairs of sandals thrown on the floor (because, again, those shoe holders are SO DIFFICULT to use); and the outdoor toys on the bottom are all askew. But it took me only 30 seconds to put everything to rights.

It absolutely kills me I didn't figure out this system until now. I mean, it seems pretty darn obvious in retrospect, doesn't it? Who knew that hanging shoe holders (which I had sitting up in my bedroom doing nothing since our bedroom closet remodel) and a bit of vigilance were all that was needed to make my front closet actually useful again?

My magnum opus, apparently

You know, 30 years ago, when I was a youthful 20-something with my entire life in front of me? I would have assumed that I would have something more meaningful to write about than closet maintenance by the time I turned 54. Come to think of it, 30 years ago,  I probably assumed I'd be almost dead by now. Oh, not because I planned a profligate life or anything; no, it was because I thought people in their mid-50s were incredibly old.

Case in point: my parents' longtime neighbors (who were exactly 30 years older than myself) remodeled their kitchen when I was 24. I remember wondering at the time why the heck they were even bothering, since they obviously had one foot in the grave already.

They're both still enjoying that remodeled kitchen, of course. I always ask for a nice dish of crow whenever I visit.