Three things I'm loving this week:
1. The parties are over. Our schedule is blissfully clear this week -- we don't even have to get the kids to swim/dance/tumbling classes because they don't start until next week (and you bet your butt I signed them up for every class I could to get the most out of my Y membership money).
2. My Christmas Club account. I shudder to think of how I would pay for Christmas if I weren't socking away money all year long. It's ridiculous if you really think about it -- to spend so much on one holiday -- but at least when that fat Visa bill arrived on Dec. 24, I didn't have to worry about how I was going to pay for our happy holiday.
3. Mediterranean Pizza at Pie in the Sky. I've also had a version of this at the Pufferbelly that I think was called Greek Pizza. Basically, it's a pizza crust with a bit of olive oil, lots of spinach and black olives and feta cheese -- all my favorites.
Three things I'm hating this week:
1. Mucus. I'm sure there's some good, healthy reason that my entire face fills with snot every time I get a cold -- like it carries away the germs or protects my blood cells or something -- but, damn, it makes me miserable and always results in a sinus infection. And, the worst part is that I can't even get good drugs to take care of it because the meth heads had to go and ruin it for everyone.
2. The thought of un-decorating. It has to be done and no one is going to do it for me. Funny how everyone wants to help put up the decorations, but no one is interested in helping to pack it all back away, eh? It's a half-a-day job that involves hauling heavy tote boxes up and down two flights of stairs and I'm having trouble mustering up the energy to do it. Here's hoping I get around to it before the tree drops another 130,000 needles.
3. My cat/dog. His name is Kayto and he's a cool cat (in every sense of the word). But, ever since my first daughter was born, he has decided to be an indoor/outdoor cat which means I have to continually let him in and out. I'm his personal doorwoman. He thinks I live to serve him.
Now, I grew up on a very busy street -- none of our pets went outside (and when they did, they were quickly killed by a passing car), so it's foreign to me to have a cat who goes in and out, but...you can't keep this cat in the house and he's been doing alright for himself out there and, really, who am I to deny him the pleasures of the great outdoors?
But, when it's cold as hell and I'm in my stocking feet, I have no interest in going out into the unheated (and often snow-tracked) sunroom to let his furry butt outside. But he stands there at the door and meows loudly and continuously -- bawling you out for not jumping to his command -- until you finally relent, stomp out to the sunroom and open the door.
Then he wants back in the house in 3 minutes. Then back out. Then back in. Then back out. Then back in. Just like our Lab used to do.
Hence the name cat/dog.