You look marvelous.

Sometimes, when I’m tired and in pain, and my energy feels like it’s locked away in a vault a million miles under the ocean, I thank my lucky stars that I live in a place where this is a thing.

Photo © 2015 Glass Half Delicious

Figured I’d share in case anybody else needed this. I know I did.

The fridge is dead, long live the fridge!

Last weekend brought with it some of the best early June weather I can remember. Temperatures soared, the sun was shining, and Vancouverites soaked it all up with greedy enthusiasm. My husband and I sunned ourselves on the beach and bought ice cream cones and ran around the city shoeless like giddy children. Everything just screamed, “Let’s pretend it’s already officially summer!”

Oh, yeah, and our fridge died.

Which was perfect timing, because we all know cold food and drink are hideously overrated during a heat wave, right?
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This is why I’m The Nut, Part II

I get irrationally excited about fog. You know how in the winter, children will wake up and immediately bolt for the window to check if it’s snowing? That’s what I’m like once October hits, except about fog.

We’ve had some disgustingly beautiful weather the past few days, and I’ll have none of that. It’s October. I’m supposed to be swaddled in layers of fleece hoodies and scarves and gloves with those special fingertips that let you text while wearing them. I’m not supposed to be sweating my way over to Starbucks in a tank top to get my goddamn pumpkin spice latte. How are us white girls supposed to drink our PSLs in our Ugg boots* when it’s not boot weather, I ask you?!

But today…today I knew something was different. The sun still greeted me as I pulled out of our underground parking, yes, but underneath that cheerful glow there was a clamminess to the air and a sense of promise. There will be fog today, that clamminess whispered to me. Don’t worry about that jackass sun, we’ll take care of him. We’ll take care of him REAL good.

I wondered what the clamminess meant by, “we”, but I didn’t ask, because if there’s some kind of organized weather mafia out there, I’d just as soon turn a blind eye.

By the time I got to work, the skies were a flat, uniform grey. As I turned onto our road I could see a haze descending on the mountains through my passenger side window.

Soon, the clamminess whispered.

And then, just before ten, I looked out the window, and a thick swirl of fog looked back.

Slowly, and with much dignity, I rose from my chair, exited my cubicle and strolled casually over to the window. Which involved an impressive amount of self-restraint considering I was as excited as a dog that’s just found its favorite ball behind the sofa. “BALL! BALL BALL BALL BALL BALL!” goes the dog. “FOG! FOG FOG FOG FOG FOG!” goes The Nut.

And I leaned on the windowsill and I gazed at my beloved autumn fog with a big happy stupid grin on my face.

I love October.


*DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ugg boots. I think they’re awful and therefore I am a disgrace to white girls everywhere.

Life is too short for boring socks.

It’s been said often, and with good reason: it really is about the little things.

I didn’t feel like writing today. I haven’t felt like doing much of anything all week. Getting out of bed this morning and yesterday was a struggle; Monday and Tuesday I was too out of it to even bother putting up the fight. I’m sick of being sick, I’m tired of being tired, and my energy reserves are running on empty. But at least I have my goddamn Tweety Bird socks on. And that matters more than you might think.

Hold on to your hats, we’re going to get all real in here for a moment.

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