It's a sickness, really.
We were at the beach last week, which is why my intentions never actually turned into written words.
So we did what most people do when they go to the beach for a week. We bought groceries. Because you can't go a whole week without eating (this is even true for those of you who think that starvation equals losing weight, which is a fallacy I used to believe, too). Anyways, as also is true when you buy a weeks worth of groceries but have an 8 hour journey home, some things have to be thrown away. I'm not gonna lie. This causes me much consternation.
Words like "money" and "wasteful" enter my mind, and I think of the pictures I see on TV of starving kids in third-world nations who stare at the camera with woeful eyes and pained expressions. And I think "I must bring that milk home".
No one can take milk home when they have an all-day car trip.
So my mother-in-law needed milk for her cereal yesterday. Except all of the milk was gone except for one lonely-looking, tiny container of skim milk that I had bought exactly one week prior. So she asked if she could use some milk. Normal people say "sure" and don't think much more about it.
I must not be normal.
Because I explained that I was going to take the milk home with me.
Really, Heather? Really.
Who does this? (I
(Sorry, Brenda. I hope you can forgive my momentary lapse into the world of crazy, combined with not sleeping well the entire week.)
See. I told you it was a sickness. No one tries to take milk that is a week old home with them. (Except for me.)
So when my husband pointed out to me (because I packed up some extra hamburger buns, also a week old--hey, you can freeze those things!) that I simply cannot throw anything away, I had to verbally defend myself--obviously (but silently agree).
"Waste Not, Want Not" was my mom's motto, one which my sister and I carried with us into our adult lives, and one that does bear some thought. Of course, we shouldn't be wasteful. Of course, we also shouldn't be ridiculous, but I do it like it's my job.
I'm so boss at being ridic.
(You are not allowed to agree with that statement even though I just said it.)
Cutting the lotion bottle so she could scoop out the very last bit from the bottom was a commonplace occurrence for my mom.
It's actually surprising to me that my house is as free from knick-knacks and junk as it is. I don't like a lot of clutter. Which is weird, considering my habit of keeping it.
Lord have mercy.
I think I need an intervention.
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life,
what you will eat or drink,
or about your body,
what you will wear. Is not life more than food,
and the body more than clothes?