So, today is our first day of residency. It’s kind of a big thing. Basically just this big mash up of nervousness and excitement and terror and omg-can-we-just-get-this started-already. (more…)
It’s winter in Dallas finally. We had some sleet and frozen rain fall from the sky and schools closed for 2 days. I went to work on the second of the 2 “snow days,” and there was so little traffic that I wish EVERY day was a fake snow day for the rest of the city. (more…)
Sometimes you wake up and heat up day old pizza in your cast iron skillet and eat it for breakfast.
Sometimes you just go to Whole Foods and buy apple cider vinegar and a single coco La Croix and a pint of Jeni’s ice cream. And that’s it.
Sometimes you go to Trader Joe’s before work on a Wednesday and buy a single greek yogurt, an apple, chocolate & sea salt almonds, and peonies. Because how do you show up at the office without those things?
Sometimes, you just do the things that you want to do. Because you’re an adult and you can.
It’s that time of the year again, y’all!
By that we mean: it’s the time of the year that you get excited to come home from work because there might be COOKIES waiting for you at the door.
Cookies sent by very awesome and very talented bakerbloggers from all over the country!
It’s the most wonderful time of the year is what we’re saying.
Well, y’all. I did it.
I survived the Texas bar exam.
Goodbye Starbucks in West Village (and hello Gold Card).
Goodbye lady who wrote “Honey” on my iced coffee cup instead of “Hannah.”
Goodbye low-talking barista who has to say everything 3 times…to everyone…followed by, “Sorry, I know I talk softly.” THEN TALK LOUDER.
Well… I’ve figured out where all the stuff I was complaining about last post comes from.
I’ve been moving into my new apartment (in Dallas! Where Hannah lives!). And moving into a new place requires some shopping for essentials that you didn’t
feel like end up moving. Like brooms and sponges and dish soap. You know, responsible, adult things.
But in my last few days of apartment nesting, I’ve noticed that I maybe (totally) let myself buy whatever I want, using the emotional trauma and stress of moving as an excuse for that purchasing behavior.