The Whatchamacallit Drawer

Recently I was thinking that for someone who ponders whether she has anything to say, I certainly do not shut up. My past few posts have centered on something I am passionate about, as you may have gathered. I am passionate about other things too, like random nonsense, so that is where we are headed today.

I will begin by checking my phone for any photos I have stored up to share, then my yellow legal pad for scribblings and then finally my notes app. If I don't make a physical list these days, I will not find my way; and, even if I do leave a paper trail, I could easily head down any path that smells like baked goods.

Mmmmmm, bread! I made bread! Rarely am I heard saying "I love a challenge!" Such a proclamation would cause the inner workings of my brain to go into full on panic mode. Picture a bustling crowd of people, who all look like me, rustling stacks of paper, bumping into each other, dropping things, shouting "How are we going to do this? What makes her think we can do this?" There are some people on instagram who have dumbed down homemade bread to the point where I felt confident enough to try it. Sure I have friends and family who bake bread, but none of them showed me condensed videos of how to actually make it happen. This is not sourdough bread, as THAT does still feel like a huge challenge, and I do not want to worry about feeding one more thing in this house.

Speaking of food, my relationship with Cheerios continues to escalate.

Best cheerleader in the cereal aisle, and far more confident than this...

...although I am always tickled when someone leaves a message. I have questions about this next one. If a dog is only going to have two flip-flops...

...shouldn't they be on his/her feet? Aren't these his/her hands in this scenario? Ideally there would be four flops for four feet, right? We do not have to try to understand why the bows of the eyeglasses are in the ears, as opposed to curled around them. I was just bothered.

My husband has no sense of smell at this point in his life, so I understand his tendency to shop for soap without paying too much attention. I walked into our bathroom and could smell his still boxed soap...

I let him know that it was rather fragrant, leaving him to ask "Good or bad?" I told him it was good for a female and that it is called Garden Tea Party (not the most masculine of scents).

The quest to get rid of random things from drawers continues, even very small ones...

...not more teeth in the Whatchamacallit drawer! And certainly not more...

...in the junque drawer below it!!! No, I do not know what that key belongs to, but I threw out the two beads and am considering a new silver polishing cloth.

It is time to come clean and admit that I did buy some new bras without rushing right over to tell you about the trauma of trying them on. The excuse is simple, in that I did not try them on. Yes folks, I turned to the internet and found one of its slightly less ridiculously priced sites to order from. My instagram algorithm has finally recovered from the journey. I put in some numbers and threw havoc to the wind, trusting their mathematical wizardry to match me up with something that would suffice. Despite a level of comfort I cannot deny...

...was I wrong to not realize that is a waistband? That is not where my waist is, is it? I assumed I still had many years before my boobs would hit it!