ok, so weird relation back to my earlier post about Ace of Base (i'd link to it here with some sort of fancy hyperlink thingy, but 1 - if you can't just scroll down, well,... and 2- I don't really know how to do that fancy stuff anyway)
On the way into work this morning, I was thinking about signs - street signs, road signs, advertisements, and about whether I could make them mean anything to me.
Ravenswood Ave - nope.
Menlo Park Library - no ephiphany there.
Starbucks Coffee - nothing monumentous there, other than a reminder to feed my addiction (Emily pulls into the 'bucks parking lot...)
Be Prepared to Stop - WHOA nelly. A sign that would otherwise tell me that there was construction going on ahead made me pause. Be Prepared to Stop WHAT? Working? Stressing? Wiping my boogers under the bed when I'm too lazy to get up and get a tissue? (c'mon, you know you do it)
How am I supposed to Be Prepared to Stop when I don't know what it is? For now, I'll focus on the booger thing. I guess being prepared would mean more tissues in the nightstand.
OK universe, you win this one. Tissues it is.
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5 comments:
Ok, but don't wipe them on the wall instead like you did that one time.
flick them behind the head of the bed. no one ever looks there. just ask my husband.
Or just flick them across the room and then they'll disappear into the carpet until the next vacuum.
Or so my boys tell me...
I'll stop comment stalking you now. Mostly because it's the last post already...
I have been very tempted to flick on the carpet, but since little E is in that stage where she picks up everything from the carpet and puts it into her mouth...ew.
uh, backpacking dad, that ONE time? How long have you known me?
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