Three days in a row, I’ve gone to the half bath in the girls’ room to use the toilet and each time SURPRISE! just an empty cardboard tube where the toilet paper should be. Does this bother me? Of course. I am actually thinking of employing a BYOTP policy in this house. Does it bother me as much as it does you? Probably not. See, you’re probably thinking, “EWWW! Gross. They don’t use toilet paper.” But it’s not so gross as it is WET. We bought these bidet attachments at Home Depot and hooked them up to the toilets in our house a couple of years ago. (This is not a new idea throughout the Middle East or in Japan.) It’s what we’ve used since forever ago. They’re relatively cheap and very easy to install. We go through far less toilet paper than the average American family, have fewer “skid marks” in underwear, fewer complaints of hemorrhoids, and we rarely have clogged sewage lines due to TP blockage. (It’s usually hair in the tub drain.)

At any rate, I still don’t appreciate having Taylor Swift added to my LIFE’S SOUNDTRACK although that IS what pops into my head and I always giggle to think that this would make an interesting, albeit less-than-family-viewing rated video addition on the music channels. But because the ginormous econo-pak of 48 rolls of 700 2-ply sheets of toilet paper (that we basically use to dry off with following the washing) is in the hallway closet. I know, how inconvenient. I keep 3-4 rolls under the sink in each bathroom but once those are gone, no one ever restocks them. And I, for the last 3 days while embracing my short attention span, have neglected to do the same. TODAY, I forced myself to “hold it” while I grabbed 4 rolls and stocked under the sinks.

“Out of sight, out of mind” is NOT a great philosophy to have when you need visual prompts like I do. We’ve had to spend Thanksgiving weekend in the dark because my husband hates clutter and he grabbed all the “still need to be paid bills” and threw them into a shopping sack and shoved said sack into that tiny cupboard above the refrigerator so that he didn’t have to look at the cluttered papers stacked on the counter in the kitchen. A) Don’t see it. Don’t pay it. 2) We had an electric stove at the time. Coldcut sandwiches for Thanksgiving was a new one for me. And lastly) I’m 5′ 3″. I didn’t even know we HAD cupboards above the refrigerator.

I AM patting myself on the back today though. I am all caught up on the kitchen. I had done the dishes last night. However, the 20-year old college student was up late doing homework. So I woke up to a sinkful of dishes and glasses all over the counter tops. But I washed them all up. I even cleaned out the inside of that tiny microwave I keep hidden in the laundry room because I’m afraid of it. (Intellectually, I know it’s not going to “get me all radioactived up” but still. One can never be too safe. Plus it hogs up all my counter space and I’m NOT getting rid of my coffee pot.)

And then I decided to empty all the plastic ware (read: petri dishes) that were taking up all of the room in my refrigerator. With as many teens with bionic metabolisms as I have, we rarely have leftovers. Occasionally, I’ll overshoot when projecting how much of something we need at dinner. But usually the only thing we have leftovers of is rice. I dumped about 6 of those fancy storage containers into the trash today and realized that I DON’T actually need to buy more plastic bowls with lids. I just need to make less rice at dinner. I washed up the bowls and lids and now I feel so accomplished. (NO. I didn’t wipe down the refrigerator shelves. I have to leave SOMETHING for the punishment of the smartmouths or as a way to earn money for when my youngest complains about being too young to have a job and can I reconsider giving him an allowance.)

Also, I’ve managed to free myself up today to do fun volunteering stuff at the school because either the laws of physics are no longer working in my oven or I just waited too long to take the chicken out of the freezer yesterday. I cook chicken and potatoes in a deep dish pan covered in foil ALL THE TIME and it’s never taken longer than 1.5 hours at 350 degrees. EVER. Last night, 2.5 hours. My husband had a friend over helping him with some electrical work. I was SOOOOOO embarrassed that it was 8:30 and not only was the chicken still bleeding but it was SQUAWKING. I made a quick executive decision, threw some pasta on to boil, fried up some turkey bacon, mushrooms, onions, and a jalepeno pepper, dumped some seasonings, canned tomatoes and a little tomato paste in there and served it over the noodles with some shredded mozzarella and a side order of broccoli.
I call it “Pasta a la Whatever-the-hell-I-found-in-the-fridge-besides-old-rice-in-plastic-containers.” It was a hit. And I don’t have to cook today because I’m just heating up the finally done chicken (and fresh rice) that I made last night.

Silver linings, people. Silver linings.

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