First time

Today I got pulled over for the first time. He pulled me over for going '5-6 miles' over the speed limit in the 70 and 60 zones. Once he said why he pulled me over, I was not even upset. Seriously, 5 miles over the speed limit?! I have no problem with me getting pulled over for that because that's just ridiculous. He didn't give me a ticket (not even for not having my new tabs on, but he said I was up to date, so I just needed to go home and find them) and he was very nice.

I think what happened on Sunday with those 4 officers in Lakewood being murdered made me ok with being pulled over. I very much appreciated this State Trooper and his kindness to me, even though he pulled me over for going 5 over the speed limit. I wish I had taken that opportunity to express my gratitude for his service.

Dirty Dishes

I hate dirty dishes. I hate them when they're on my counter and when they're in my sink. And, the bigger problem, I hate washing them. When I was growing up, we used to complain about loading the dishwasher; never again will I complain about loading the dishwasher. I hated doing the dishes then and I hate it more now. I'd give my 1-bedroom kingdom for a dishwasher.

I love having a clean kitchen, so I think I hate what the pile of dirty dishes represents: I'm too busy, tired, lazy, etc. to wash them. Between commuting 2 hours per day, working full time, taking care of my sweet Vivienne, trying to work out transportation with one car, and supporting Doug in whatever way I can...I just don't have the time, energy, or desire to clean those bloody dishes. Doug helps sometimes, but a pile of dirty dishes doesn't irk him like it does me, so I'm the one who buckles under the weight of the yuckiness in the sink.

Ugh. If we had enough money, I'd rather just throw out the dirty dishes and pull out clean ones for each new meal. Or just get a dishwasher.