I love being married, I think to myself, laying in bed next to Dave while stuffing my mouth with a handful of Honey Dijon Kettle potato chips. He’s watching an episode of Doctor while I write.
How loud I’m crunching these extra-thick chips reminds me of a video call with my good friend Travis. With the camera pointed at me, I made my morning espresso by grinding beans, dispensing hot water, and steaming the milk. At one point, Travis stopped me, “What in the heck are you doing? You are so loud.” Always on the hunt for an entertaining idea, he then said, “You should have a YouTube show you call a friend and run really loud appliances in the background. What’s up next, you going to shake up a paint can?”
Seriously, I bet my chip-eating is annoying Dave.
With eight more days in the office, seven more days until Dave’s birthday, two weeks until our house is put on the market, and two months until we move to Georgia, I realize I’m good with numbers. In other news, Dave picked his birthday dinner of fettuccine alfredo, steamed broccoli, and homemade Caesar salad with brownie for dessert.
Someone stop me from eating these addictive chips! Or better yet, bring a hand vacuum up here and clean up after me.
Dang it, I just remembered that I need to message a private pay client and remind them that if we meet this week, they need to pay for last week’s session. After watching an old colleague let a client rack up a bill of $6,000 and not get paid, I won’t let even one week get by. It’s not good for me or for them.
I’m still stressing out over kitchen and bathroom cabinets. I’d like to fast forward to a future moment when I’m cooking some eggs, pulling a plate off a perfectly colored shelf, and thinking, “Aw, I’m so glad that’s over.”
But that day is not today. To cope, I better slip off into unconsciousness, aka sleep. Nighty night!
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 