All I needed from today was time to sleep. After waking up, I went through my regular morning routine. Within a couple of hours, after a travel mug hit me in the face, I was ready for a nap.
Hannah and I often “argue” about the usefulness of a top sheet. I like having it because it’s a barrier between you and the duvet, keeping the duvet cleaner for longer. It’s also nice to have on warmer nights when you still want to be covered but don’t need the weight and warmth of a comforter. Hannah, on the other hand, is wrong.
She has throw pillows. I don’t understand the purpose of throw pillows. To me, they are less useful than a flat sheet. In the evenings, we have to take them off of the couch before sitting down. At night, we take them off the bed before going to sleep. I used them as pillows once when I took a nap on the couch. This morning, I threw the ones on my side of the couch to the other side before sitting down. I had just been hit in the face by a travel mug.
I wanted waffles this morning. I haven’t had any in a while and was just in the mood. You know? So, I pulled up a recipe on my phone and started to work. I found the one-cup measuring cup, the half-cup measuring cup, and the one-third measuring cup. The recipe called for a quarter-cup of corn starch and teaspoons and tablespoons of other ingredients. I couldn’t find them.
I searched through all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen, save one. I checked behind the baking ingredients, in the cabinet on top of the fridge, underneath the sink, and in the linen closet. Each time I pulled on a door or drawer open, my frustration increased. The cursing that came out of my mouth sent the cats scurrying. I sent a text to Hannah.
“Where are the measuring cups and spoons.” Period. “I can only find the three.” Period.
She didn’t respond right away.
The last time I was looking for some glass bottles that I use to take milk with me to work. I couldn’t find them on top of the fridge, where I used to keep them. They are now tucked in behind the travel mugs in the cupboard I hadn’t checked. I thought I’d look for the measuring spoons there. Why not?
I opened the cupboard, reached up to move a travel mug to the side. Two fell, likes rocks off a cliff, bounced off of my face, and landed in the sink. I swore. Loudly. I stacked the mugs on top of each other nicely and then slammed the door shut.
I took my waffle out of the waffle iron with my fingers – I used a teaspoon to measure out the ingredients – slathered butter on it and poured syrup into each pocket. After grabbing a fork from the cutlery drawer and marched my way to the couch. Sitting down, straight up – the throw pillows were on the other side of the couch – I ate my waffle, cutting into it with the edge of the fork. The pieces folded as they hit my teeth on their way into my open mouth.
I got up to make another waffle. I hadn’t turned off the waffle iron because I knew I was going to make another, maybe even a third. My phone rang.
“Did you check the bag on top of the drawers behind the couch?”
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