lifebeyondexaggeration

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stranger

Gird Your Loins August 1, 2015

My husband and I have been together for nearly twelve years. Needless to say, he’s learned a lot of Megan survival skills. Things like if she’s crying, feed her. If you try and move her covers when she’s sleeping, Megan will consider this a death threat and kick you as hard as she can.

Sadly, or maybe pathetically, though expectedly is probably the most accurate word, the time he needs his survival skills most is in the morning. Through the years, we have developed a routine for optimal lack of tears and least time curled up in a ball fighting the fact the being a grownup means getting out of my warm sheets.

When we’re living someplace with a kitchen, which is currently and unfortunately not the case, the first alarm goes off. I kick him in the shins till the husband cuddles me. For this time period, I prefer to be the little spoon and have my butt snuggled. We lay there, waiting for the second alarm fifteen minutes later. After the second alarm, I have five minutes to curl up on his shoulder, a thing which can never be allowed when sleep is expected because of the copious amount of drool this produces.

After the third alarm, he gets up and goes to make smoothies. (more…)

 

Boiled and Burned July 1, 2015

Filed under: I Meant Well — meganorussell @ 4:26 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

I have a confession to make. A few months ago I reached a new low. I’ve been avoiding telling you all the sad tale, but sometimes a good story is more important than pride.

So here it goes. I started a tiny kitchen fire while boiling water.

It’s okay to laugh. There was no permanent damage, and I didn’t get in trouble with my artistic director.

The husband had just finished making chicken for dinner, and while I was talking to my mother on the phone before we went to the theatre, I decided I wanted a cup of tea. Since there was no tea kettle in the cast house, I started to boil water in a sauce pan. I cleaned the kitchen a little and then washed my hands. I was using a paper towel to dry my hands and noticed a spot of chicken grease on the stove. Being a person who hates using paper towels since all I can picture is the soul of the poor trees screaming you lazy, earth-hating bum! at me every time I use one when there is a perfectly good hand towel in the room, I decided to assuage my guilt by wiping up the bit of grease on the stove. (more…)