verbicide | ah, mondays

You know you're a grown up[1] when....

...you realize you actually prefer Raisin Bran to Cinnamon Toast Crunch[2]
...you would rather save gas money than sleep in late
...you realize that 'sleep in late' now means 8AM

1. These values of 'grown up' relate only to

verbicide. No substitutions or exchanges.
2. I recently indulged in this guilty pleasure, but it turned out to be just so-so. Mrh.

The rest of Sunday went well. Jeff and I were both totally wiped out. Jeff spent hours at the house gardening in the pouring, chilling rain. I didn't pot my plants, focusing on cleaning the kitchen, laundry, and general house keeping.

Jeff came home; I'd made the puttanesca. He made his fantastic green beans, Italian style with garlic, lemon, Italian parsley, and Parmesan. They looked so beautiful on the platter I bought from Provence, but he wouldn't let me photograph it. We had a nice sit down dinner with some toasted Ciabatta.

After dinner, we watched some Harry Potter that TiVo had picked up while I folded and put away laundry and prepped my bag for the morning--it makes such an enormous difference in the morning, I need to start doing that regularly, too. It was awesome not to lurch around all morning forgetting things.

I took a quick shower and actually blow-dried my hair for the first time in about 12,000 years. (I think Jeanne's perfect coif inspired me. Plus I have a new shortish (shoulder length) and frisky haircut that I would like to keep sleek and not a frizzy puff-bomb.) I took the time to do all the girly things I'm usually too lazy to do. Exfoliate. Moisturize. Condition (with a post-shower hair serum thing).

And now, it's Monday. Jeff and I are slowly prepping for the LA trip next weekend to see my family--both exciting and unnerving. It'll be the first time he's met everyone--he has already met my parents and one brother/SIL and some of the cousins. Thank GOD for Labor Day. This way, after getting home super late on Sunday night, we'll still have a day to recover.