I have been through the drive thru at least five times this year. That's a record for me. Each time I did it, it was a conscious decision: I will go to Wendy's, I will go through the drive-thru, I will talk to lady in the box, I will not hit box with car, I will give the lady money, I will not drive too close to window and scrape car, I will not drive too far away from window and have to open door, I will be fine, I will not panic. So far so good. My next goal is to go to the movie alone.
Cam and I have to prepare for a disaster. We are disaster-prepared free. When our ward had an emergency preparedness drill and we had to grab our seventy two hour kits, well, all we had were these tin cans filled with granola bars and toothpaste that I'd made at enrichment. When we got to the church, we were, umm, the laughingstock of the neighborhood. Everyone else had huge duffel bags on wheels, fatigues, night vision goggles, and propane tanks. Recently our ward food-storage couple called us over to their house to help us assess our food-storage needs (we have NO food storage except for the two boxes of cup-o-noodles I bought for Cam's lunch). Needless to say, the food storage couple found out we were behind. So now, as a newly minted housewife, I am starting a new pursuit: home storage and some sort of domesticity. I may make bread.
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