who moved my cheese?

If you know me much at all, you know these two things:

  1. I hate going to the grocery store.
  2. I must have pepper jack cheese in my refrigerator.

It is true that these two facts are difficult to reconcile, one with the other, because I still haven’t found anybody willing to accept the job of doing my grocery shopping for me. (Yes. I have offered this job, for minimal pay, to at least two people.)

Well, last night I know I had some pepper jack cheese in an open (but resealable) package. There were 4 pieces left.

Sadly, when I looked in the refrigerator to make my delicious main course (a Veja-link and pepper jack sandwich) this evening, there was no partially finished package of cheese on the shelf.

Someone moved my cheese.

I looked under the other things thing on the shelf (a full package of pepper jack slices), to no avail.

Another thing you probably know about me is this: stress eats holes in my brain.

After this week, my stress levels are such that my brain is basically functioning as well as a bucket made out of cheesecloth (with pieces cut out). Knowing this about myself, I figured I’d probably absentmindedly stuck the package in the freezer. This is typical stressed-out-me behavior.

It wasn’t in the freezer, though. I found it in the trash can. The trash can!

The worst part is that I’m sadder about being 4 slices closer to the next trip to the store than I am about losing the money I spent on those slices.

Thank goodness I had that backup package. My sandwich just wouldn’t have been the same without that pepper jack deliciousness. (I ate some vegetables, too.)

I am also thankful that I have a few days off to spackle the holes in my brain with some downtime. I hope it works.

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About mrsmartin

I love to camp, hike, read, take pictures, spend time with friends and family, play word games, and learn stuff about all kinds of different things. I'm a Seventh-day Adventist Christian. I'm a vegetarian teetotaler. I used to be a teacher and now I'm a wife and a mom.
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