You’re Better Than Me And Here’s Indisputable Proof

Get ready to feel better about all those plans you made for being productive in the New Year that you’re not quite hitting. I’m doing worse.

It’s now 1:45 p.m. on day 3, and I’ve just spent the majority of my day searching for the goddamn half & half.

I woke up rather normally a few minutes after 7, trudged downstairs blurry-eyed like I always do, poured my first cup from the waiting pot, grabbed my beloved half & half from the fridge, and dribbled in a tablespoon or whatever. Whole milk or God forbid two percent or skim or some other such shit, will not do!

It must be half & half. And it was, so everything was normal to this point. It’s only when I returned 20 minutes later for my second cup that shit started downhill.

I opened the fridge and… no half & half. Looked on the counter and… no fucking half & half. Scrambled through the kitchen, dining room, and living room in a mild-at-this-early-stage panic and… you guessed it… the mystery of the missing half & half was officially in full fucking swing and I was rapidly approaching being a goddamn rage-induced mess.

Fast forward approximately six hours, and we finally have resolution. I found the damned carton while making lunch.

It was conveniently located in the cabinet where I keep the secret coffee ground mixture I’ve perfected through years of trial and error and my special coffee cups that fit my sausage fingers just right. It’s also where I happen to keep the sea salt I needed for my steak.

Note that my sea salt is pink Himalayan because I surmised, despite a complete lack of anything resembling evidence, that the Himalayan stuff might be saltier than regular sea salt. If that fucking Himalayan sea salt would have been missing and I’d have been forced to use the regular old junk, I’m afraid I’d have ripped a cabinet door off the hinges.

But my two prized possessions were both there, so I staged a happy reunion and treated myself to an afternoon pot with my steak. To my utter bliss, the half & half wasn’t even curdled after sitting out for six hours.

And so, after wasting most of my day intermittently searching for my half & half and swearing loudly to no one, I found it when I wasn’t even looking. In between, I managed to talk myself off the ledge long enough to check email and send one.

Yep, one. I sent one fucking email today. And ransacked the house looking for my half & half. And wrote this.

Whatever you did, surely you’ve been more productive on day whatever of 2019 than me.