I just witnessed this in Target

Dad in the store: Put that back on the shelf.
Small child: *high pitched mumble*
Dad: Do you know what that is?
Child: *mumble*
Dad: You don’t know what that is.
Me: *fails to contain laughter*

THE LAST FUCKING BOX IT WAS IN THE LAST FUCKING BOX OF THE STORAGE UNIT

There is one more box. I am sweaty and itchy as fuck but there is one. More. Box.

Please.

So we have four rolls of packing tape and all of them are empty

I had to run back into the house to find packing tape to put the boxes back together after I’d found the books and all the sudden I hear and huge crash from upstairs and it’s like

“Oh. Oh no.”

I have a flight in nine hours, you know what would be a great idea DISmaNtLE tHE WhoLE SToRAgE UNiT

There is a rusty electric saw and a miniature saxophone in here. If I get trapped they will never find my body

I’m not…terribly upset, persay, but I’ve just discovered that my copy of Phoenix Dance is gone, and I don’t know if it it’s been sold or donated, but that was a very important book to me. I’m going to look in the storage unit for it. If I can’t find that book, I’m hitting the three book stores I know in town to find it, and if that doesn’t work, I’m going to look for it on Amazon.

Okay so I just heard a very faint but really fucking horrifying noise and I’m torn among three things:

A. Motherfucker, come at me, this is my fucking house and I’ll teach you a lesson (my standard, that works)

B. Holy mother of god that sounded like nothing that I’ve ever sensed in the house before

C. This is a symptom, you are experiencing paranoia and stress related fear.

So its 1am and I have to turn off the lights soon and it’s super nice to not be able to tell if it’s mental illness or if there’s really actually something creeping in my house so haha. *Pours salt everywhere*

I put a note on the bonsai that said “don’t forget to water me when I’m dry! :)” but you just know I’ll come back in a week and it will be like “Please. I can’t cry because I have no moisture. Please soak me, I can’t take it anymore.” and I’ll have to revive it.

It was a father’s day present, so it’s actually my dad’s, but he’s been sick all month and when my mom tried watering it she did it from above and started washing the soil away- so I’ve been taking care of the little guy. Despite my black thumb with most other plants, I have a strangely green one with specifically trees, so I’m hoping that until my dad gets better (which won’t be for a long while, based on his limp) I can keep this little juniper going strong.