On a slightly impressive (yet excessive) note. . .
. . . I started cleaning out my closet today (not in an R. Kelly/Eminem way, but in the literal sense). From it, I have four bags of trash, thre bags of clothes to give away, and at least twenty-five purses in possession (seven of which I will be parting with—and that’s even following the “if you haven’t used it within the last year, pitch it,” rule).
On a slightly more serious note . . .
. . . Sometime between installing our new pool pump last night and me putting a hand in the water this morning, the wiring must’ve gone on the fritz. So I can now say that I have experienced minor electrocution (I say minor because I am still alive and it only made my body go numb as opposed to frying any vital organs). Apart from residual “I feel like I’ve been sitting on my limbs and they’re almost asleep” effects, I am fine and will only et better with time. Needless to say, it was a bit terrifying and I have now met my summer’s excitement quota . . .
On a slightly pathetic note . . .
. . . I finally made it into the fair trade store in Chelsea, MI, where I broke down into tears at the stand with Ugandan jewelry, handmade in Jinja. I’ve never been a supporter of/believer in retail therapy, but it was necessary at his point. I will say, however, that the Ecuadorian scarf and the Congo keychain (Congon, Congonian…?) probably weren’t as necessary as the Ugandan earrings, but I’m not going to feel bad about it, because it was fair trade and it was all 17.5% off (though James tells me that “But it’s on sale,” is an awful excuse. Pssht. What do boys know?).
On a slightly disappointing note . . .
. . . I am still on book #3 of my summer reading list [sighs]. And I only just realized yesterday that I have a 30+ page research paper studying Charlotte Brontë’s feminist influence on the expectations and roles of women in Victorian England.
On an uplifting note . . .
. . . My cat is hysterical, my family is beautiful, and my God is merciful.