I discovered spaghetti squash this week. OMG. I was invited to a friend's for dinner where she served it. What she did is that after roasting it she scooped it the squash and put in a skillet with a can of tomatoes, some seasonings, onion, and feta cheese. The very next night I went to Publix and bought my own and replicated it. I only wish I had added ground beef too; I don't think that I'll ever buy spaghetti noodles again.
My iPhone no longer receives my email. Help? I'm working up to go see AT&T tomorrow. Meh. But one thing I learned about it this morning is that I can "name" my alarms. I did. And it makes me laugh. Hoping that it'll make the 5:45 call to run easier!
My current #1 pet-peeve: being called DianE. No, that's not my name. It's DianA. Granted this probably bothers me more than it should because my father frequently called me Diane, (it just ticked me off remembering how he did; definitely the cause of the issue!) but he signed the birth certificate (not that it had the correct add...never mind, I'm done with this rant) so he had no excuse! My two favorite instances this week of being called the name which I shall not be called by:
- In an email that I signed with "Diana" and had my work signature of "Diana" underneath it got a response of "Thanks, Diane!" WTHeck. But that individual did respond a couple days later with "I think I called you Diane, sorry!"
- My former campus minister (who I interned in his ministry for 2 years) walked past me this week and goes' "Hi Diane." Given that he sees 1,000's of people a year I let it go, but still. Boo.
In my bathroom this guy exploded with a cloud of smoke and I caught it when I noticed it was hanging on by a thread. Now to get the base out of the fixture. I'm thinking of calling an SOS to the more handy people in my life on this one, but I will google it first, in case it's anything like my Thursday morning.
I woke up Thursday morning to run with a terrible headache so I stayed in bed another hour and a half. At 7:30 I told myself, "self, you'll feel better if you shower." I turn on the water, let it get good and hot, assess my hair and see that it needs washed, and then hop in. Well, I hopped into a freezing cold stream. I fly out and go check the water heater, which is silent. Uh-oh. Hair gets crafted into a new up-do and I email my landlord. He comes over after we all get off of work and comes in with tools. The fix? Flipping the breaker.
Belt of shame
One afternoon I was running through the sanctuary at work and I saw boss lady wearing a tool belt filled with donation envelopes and pencils while refilling the pews and I stopped dead in my tracks and said, "what are you wearing?!?!?!" I quickly began calling it the belt of shame. Well, I had to wear it this week. Another day in the office...