I left my phone at home yesterday. Every time I put my hand in my pocket or touched my pocket from the outside I would think: “Oh no! Where’s my phone?!? Oh… yeah… I left it at home.” This was my first day without a phone in YEARS. It was weird.
It wouldn’t have been such a big deal, but my handbell group was supposed to play in church last night and one of them was sick. I needed to call for substitutes. I had left a message with one of them to call me, but my phone was at home. So I went home to get it. Once I got there, I listened to my message, then started to call other people… and realized I left all the handbell peoples’ phone numbers at school. Arrgh! So I went back to school to get them.
None of the subs worked out, so we ended up cancelling. And in the meantime, I had used all my between-school-and-church time driving around and talking on the phone. Dang.
Here’s where my stinkin’ phone was all day:
Don’t fret – I’m sure that phone implants are just around the corner. Then you’ll NEVER forget your phone again!!!! Mmmuuuuuhhuuaaahhhhhhaaaaa!
Bummer…
We have two tables like that that used to be in our bedroom in a similar spot. Now they’re beside the piano.
I love that paint… did you do that?
(Leo wants me to tell you that I can’t empathize, because I’m constantly forgetting my phone places. The last time I didn’t have my phone with me was… yesterday. I left it on my desk while I went to talk with people. Even worse, it’s a BlackBerry, so I don’t have my most favorite form of communication, e-mail.)
Hey, that looks like my bed. How’d you get me bed?
Sorry I didn’t know you forgot your phone yesterday … really sorry … you should have said something – then I could have called & left you at least 75 strange messages, from various numbers … Muahhhhhh!
The key to a happy life is not carrying a cell phone. Ever.
Search your feelings. Feel the desire for a cell phone inside you. Let it surge through you. Sign a contract. Then your journey toward the Dark Side will be complete.
Beth-aren’t you proud of Brad’s bed being made?
Brad-are you a messy sleeper, OR neat — meaning someone who just gets in, barely moves,no scrunching of covers involved, no pillows surrounding yourself– so in the morning all you have to do is flip back a little piece of the blankets … ’cause those kind of people really get on my nerves.
I was taking a picture to post on the Internets, so I had to make sure it was neat-looking.
I don’t tear up the bed too badly. The comforter sometimes gets cattywompus, but it’s not that hard to straighten in the morning.
cattywompus…another Bradapationland word?
hope all those catalogs are not near a heating pad!
I was totally cattywhumped by Brad’s use of the word cattywompus.
BTW: I do make my bed every day … (I can’t stand to get in a bed that’s not made) … and I’m not a sheet tucker so I need to straighten both the sheet & comforter. I usually like a foot or leg hanging out.
I make our bed every day, too. I hate, HATE, wrinkly sheets – they don’t feel right – so I make our bed. Plus, my home is my castle, and I like it to look good all the time if I can manage it. I’m very tidy. Not necessarily clean, but always tidy. *cough*OCD*cough* (I thought I’d save you the trouble, Brad)
I also hang a foot out, but I tuck sheets at the end of the bed and just hang a foot out the side.
It’s not OCD to make your bed.
And I hang my foot out the side too … I’m not long enough for it to hang out the bottom, but I don’t like the sheets tucked in ’cause it feels too confining, too tight on the other foot. I take turns sleeping on my sides, with an occasional intermission on my back.
I AM proud. And Mom would be, too.
No comments on the Ton O’ Crud all over the floor, creeping under the bed, and taking over all of greater Hamilton?
Welcome to our house…’cept it’s in Rosedale.
(If my fancy font doesn’t work out, the “our” was supposed to be italicized.)