I feel like I spend about 15 waking hours with Jon a week. When he's at work I'm home and vice versa. This forces me to find my own entertainment when the blogs I stalk haven't been updated recently. Enter, laser. And cat.
I also think I was born in the wrong decade. I adore the baby names [what? Normal people who are childless and not presently trying to conceive don't think of baby names?] Marjorie, Hazel, Virginia, Franklin, Wesley, and Frederick. Jon doesn't. I also adored their fashion. I could have totally pulled this look off:
|Image Source: Kaboodle|
Also, I fought with the garage and the garage won. I got home from my parent's and ran upstairs to get the clicker for our newly claimed one-car garage (yay for both cars having a home that is not under the pine trees that leave irritating splotches of sap on my windshield). I could hear the motor working. The door would not yield.
In a tizzy, I made my way into the apartment. Where I couldn't dislodge my key from the door. Inanimate objects 2, Danielle 0.
Being how patient I am, we all know how gracefully I handled this situation.
And my key: