There may or may not be twenty sentences in here—we'll just call them theoretical and get on with our lives like this title never happened.

Excuse me if I’ve been less than diligent about my blog in the last couple of weeks—without Levi around constantly doing silly things I don’t have a lot of content. Perhaps I just lack vision? That must be it, because a friend mentioned over twitter that the power going out would be blog fodder, and I still can’t see how. The power didn’t end up going out, so I may never know. I’m almost disappointed that it didn’t go out, because if it had I could talk about all of the food in my fridge going bad—except that all of the food in my fridge is already bad. (I should clean that, but I just don’t feel like it. There are some things in there that have probably gone bad that I wouldn’t eat if they weren’t bad. Yeah I’m talking about you, Sweet Chili Sauce—you’re disgusting, and nobody loves you.) Wouldn’t you know, it looks like power outages are blog fodder, and one didn’t even happen.

Right now I’m stuck at home waiting for my couch to arrive. I called IKEA this morning to check on it because it left California on Friday and it doesn’t take a week to get from California to Washington and they told me that the delivery company told them that it was being delivered today. It’s nice that it’s being delivered today but now I have to go grocery shopping tonight which is going to be hell. It’s really my fault for not going last night, but I didn’t really know what I needed and my grocery store only had a tiny bottle of allspice that was over priced so I just went home because I figured the couch wouldn’t be coming today because nobody called me to schedule the delivery. So now I am awaiting a couch that might be delivered any second or by eight in the evening and I haven’t even been able to talk with the company to tell them that they will probably have to go in through the backdoor. (I originally typed my backdoor, but then the child in me started giggling so I took it out but thought it was too funny not to mention that it happened—we’re going low brow today. Don’t judge, you live for this.) So now, instead of a convenient relaxing day where I eventually go to the grocery store to grab my groceries and the hardest part of my day is deciding whether or not my KitchenAid mixer can handle molasses cookies, I get to wait at home until my couch eventually arrives and then I get to assemble it before running to the grocery store and running home to make cookies—I hope you all like egg shells. (I’m not actually going to run. I am going to drive my car. Also, I’m actually quite excited about my couch getting here because I’m tired of sitting on an exercise ball—feigning frustration just reads better. Furthermore, I can have company now without feeling bad.)

It’s time for me to end this because I have to run back and forth between my computer and my bedroom window every time I hear a loud truck pass by or a door slam. Also, I think I’ve typed twenty too many run-on sentences. I don’t know if there are even twenty sentences in this whole entry but there should be and that was the point I was trying to make here.

Stephen Battey

Stephen is a 25 year old amateur photographer, blogger, and husband from Tacoma, Washington. He shares a cute ass house with his husband, cat, and two dogs. He generally hates all weather patterns.

Tacoma, WA