While at home celebrating Big Dad’s birthday this weekend, I introduced my parents to Hoarders. I’m slightly addicted to the show, and every time I watch it I feel the need to purge and clean. It can be quite motivating. I hate when things are cluttered… it makes me feel like I can’t function in a space. However, when I get busy (or lazy) things keep building up and I find myself surrounded in it. How does this happen? My desk is a magnet for clutter. Actually, our whole office is. When we lived in Senior’s City, the Hubster and I had our desks in separate rooms. It wasn’t that…

I don’t usually like quitting things. I even have an apron that says “I’d give up chocolate, but I’m no quitter!” (But actually I gave up chocolate three weeks ago. Shhh.) However, being able to quit my last job was…. exhilarating. Wonderful. MAGICAL, even. I had been counting down the days for two months and my lovelies, it’s finally here: I quit. Last Thursday evening was my last shift. I think I expected a hallelujah chorus as I walked out the door for the last time, but it was strangely… surreal. It didn’t feel real, like somehow “The Store” would suck me back in and make me keep working there.…

I was blown away by the response I got to my last post. It may not look like I got many comments on the post itself, but I couldn’t believe all the people that contacted me through Facebook to let me know that the post had touched them, and, in many cases, brought them to tears. I’m glad that the small moment that moved me moved so many of you too. In other news, I did not have any lovely moments today. There must be something in the water here in Pretty City, because every. single. person I dealt with today was all kinds of awful. Seriously. I feel bad…