Good sir, which way to the halfway house?

The last few days have been dead around here, don’t you agree? I got caught up at my parents with the major Midwest ice storm which eliminated the drone of the TV, but unfortunately also nixed internet access. After two days, I shivered like an meth addict who happened to be wearing my polka dotted socks. When I started growling answers to questions and twitching, my mother had the good sense to call the internet provider and to be officially told that there was a “server problem.” I think she then contemplated tranquilizers, complete with dart gun.



Sweet, sweet internet. How I longed for thee.


The only thing of note that I have learned over this long weekend is that I do not just have German blood in me. While I am acutely organized and neat, after watching my aunt fold and smooth the WalMart bags before placing them gently onto the pile of crushed bags in the pantry, I understood that there is quite a great deal of lazy American in me.


3 Responses to Good sir, which way to the halfway house?

  1. The Rebuker says:

    I think it might also be a generational thing: my grandma was a dyed in the wool Wal-mart bag folder. She’s of Danish extraction though, so maybe it’s also a Northern European thing.
    By the by, how are you feeling about the impending return to school?

  2. eatsbugs says:

    I have a whole cabinet in my kitchen dedicated to plastic bags of that particular type. Sad, huh?

  3. thebutton says:

    I have an entire closet full of plastic bags. There’s one large plastic bag to hold them, screw folding them.

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