Too Many Books

This weekend, hubs spent $300.00 on a lawnmower. Yes, you read that right. Three.hundred.smackers. I feel it is my wifely duty to make sure he gets his money's worth out of said purchase. Just sayin'. In related news, I, Amber Leigh Tidd Murphy, do not have green thumbs. Tasks like mulching and weeding and sowing and reaping are really not in my arsenal of talents. That's why my neighbors have cutespice flower beds and I have overgrown shrubs and some out of control greenery from a failed attempt a few years ago. (I want to call it very all very organic  looking, but that would be a lie. What it is , is a hot mess.) (Though I don't dig outdoorsy gardening, I do prune the interior. Let's not get carried away.) Now, I could go all writerly here, and use some lame metaphor about weeding and pruning ones first draft, but since I haven't completed my MS, I am not allowed to do that. I sent my inner editor packing. She's currentl...

I have been feeling kind of low the past couple of days. I mean, there are multiple factors, a couple of which are sports related. The end of football season is always a sad time (I'm like a man , I know) and I'm currently watching my Indiana basketball Hoosiers play the number 13 ranked Wisconsin Badgers, in what is sure to be another painful loss. (We're currently getting blown out.) There are other important motivating factors: the general state of disorder that is my house, the crabby way in which I have interacted with hubs as of late, my overall lack of an actual social life, and financial woes a plenty. (I mean, I didn't even feel like blogging yesteray, and when I don't blog on a weekday, it usually means I'm having a pretty awfulspice day.) I think I'm just exhausted from my new work schedule. Don't get me wrong -- I really do like my new bank branch, but work is no longer a place where I already know everything about my job.   (Yeah, so...

Yesterday, I made a promise. I promised my husband that I would do the dishes tonight. This is not awesome. The sink is full to overflowing and I have a sneaking suspicion that the majority of the dishes and utensils may be best described as crusty. The predicament is that I have not done dishes in um, over a week. Granted, that's only 4 or so actual meals in the Murphy household. Typically, we eat at least one frozen pizza per week, which requires minimal cleanup. We never cook breakfast (unless it's at dinner time!) and when I do come home for lunch, I heat up something lean-cuisine-ish and dirty only a fork. Then there are the nights -- like tonight -- when I bring home Qboda and chew away stress. (Chicken nachos > antidepressants.) I'm procrastinating... there are several items that are daunting me more than a little: there's a casserole dish from shepherd's pie which is soaking at the bottom of the sink like long-buried treasure, certain to be alg...