Mar. 14th, 2011

I was productive yesterday.

First I hemmed and hung up the curtains for the laundry closet. Aside from a dropping-a-hot-iron-on-my-hand mishap, it all went perfectly. I now have cute white with blue polka dot curtains hanging in the doorway of the laundry closet. They look much better than those terrible plastic folding doors that used to be there.

Then I did a ton of laundry. Yay for having clean clothes for the work week! And while the machines were running, I mopped all the floors. Multitasking!

After that, I went into the backyard to prune a few of the bushes. Now you can enter the side gate without getting a mouthful of leaves and branches. I don't think the former homeowners ever pruned anything. If none of the bushes in the back die from my inept pruning, I'll work on the front yard next weekend.

By that point, the pain in my burnt hand was a bit unbearable. I had been treating it with a bag of ice, but it was just getting worse and worse. So I loaded myself up on painkillers and sprayed my hand with burn cream. Then crawled into bed with my bag of ice and watched movies until I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I researched dinner recipes for the week. Then woke ben up and dragged him out to the store with me. We tried to go out for dinner first, but we live in VA so all the restaurants were closed at 8pm on Sunday. Ridiculous.

Unbelievably, it was time to go to bed by the time we got home and put the groceries away. I hate DST. I hate it moreso when I wake up in the darkness and my body knows it's 5am when the clock claims it's 6am...
Anyone else feel really guilty for having a perfectly normal life after some sort of major disaster strikes in the world?

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holytoastr

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