Five Things Friday - Questions I Need Answered Immediately.
Are you supposed to empty the lint tray in the dryer right after your load of laundry is finished?Or right before you do another?Because I have always just emptied it right away, as soon as my laundry is done.But Ryan thinks that it is appropriate to let the lint just chill in the tray until he is about to dry his next load of laundry.The problem with this is that sometimes I am the next person to use the dryer and then I have to delint the tray even though it was his stupid sweatpants that linted it up in the first place.So I feel like I’m doing double-lint duty.Is it crazy that this bothers me?Would it be wrong to save Ryan’s dryer lint until he is sleeping and then put it in his mouth and tell him it’s double-lint gum?
How much would you say is an appropriate amount to talk to one’s animals?If the answer is not, “oh like constantly whenever one is around one’s animals,” then I may be overdoing it a bit.But in fairness to me, Ryan worked nights for 18 fricking months and I had no one to talk to besides either myself or the dogs and the dogs just seemed like a saner alternative.So I’m going to forgive myself for exclaiming “Daisy do you see that monkey!? Do you want to eat that monkey?” while watching Love In The Wild last night.I’m also going to forgive myself for watching Love In The Wild in the first place.
Oh Sam and Mike Please Fall In Love. Please Please Please.
When you go over to your best friend’s apartment to visit, whether announced or unannounced, is he/she usually naked when you get there?Oh just my best friend then?Yeah I thought so. (Disclaimer: I don’t actually see her naked.I just have to wait in the hall until she puts clothes on after I knock.)
An OK Picture of Us. At Least She's Wearing Clothes.
Is it, would you say, normal to injure one’s self while asleep? Does it happen to anyone else A LOT?Because I do it A LOT. Besides the normal bumps and bruises from kneeing myself in the mouth or somehow getting most of my hand stuck in my hair and then pulling out a lot of hair, I have these lovely little things called Night Terrorsthat in some instances have ended with me flinging myself off the bed and into a piece furniture while still fully asleep.Once from the top bunk of a bunk bed my sophomore year of college.That was the day I took up swearing.Seriously, I NEVER swore at all before that.(Except for one time when my sisters made me really really mad when I was a senior in high school and I was like “You know what…you can just….go to hell.”And then they laughed at me for ten years.)I have also recently thrown myself out of my current bed into the dresser and gifted myself with a golf ball-sized lump on the back of my head because I was pretty sure a lion was slowly creeping out of Ryan’s closet.It was really painful and I cried but I do like the fact that if a lion were indeed stalking out of the closet in the middle of the night that I would just throw myself out of the way and let the lion have his way with my husband.I have crazy pants survival instincts even when asleep.Also, my bedtime routine has now been expanded from checking the bed for spiders to checking the bed for spiders and the closet for lions.
Sidebar: If you’ve read the spider story in a previous post - Can you imagine if I accidentally overlooked a lion one night and then as Ryan was getting mauled by said lion he was all “Oh good job checking for lions last night Lauren.”
Noooo!! Don't Eat Ryan!!
Do any of the three of you reading this (hi Dad!) have a question for me?
Joules is a full-time working mother, a blogger, a DIYer and a gourmet marshmallow eater. Blogging on everything from wild horse sex to her dog pooping on her husband the first time he spent the night. Obviously her life is very glamorous.
You could win 5 bazillion dollars if you read her blog. Well, you could, anything is possible. But you totally have to share your winnings with her. If you don't like Julie's blog, she'll give you a refund or a puppy. She gets to pick.
This blog is a semi-factual reflection of the life and opinions of its author, Lauren Gallagher. Its content is protected under intellectual copyright law. So do not try to steal my shit, yo.