Mornin'

Today started with this little ditty. I admit that I loved it. May Mr. Trololo rest in peace.

Saturday morning was weird. In the still-sleeping hours of the morning, I dreamed a dream about food. Not just any food, but a Cheerio concoction of some sort. It was a Cheerio crispy treat. (I blame the pin and blog post I saw that talked about Fruit Loop crispy treats and Trix crispy treats. Gross.) However, in my dream, I didn't know it was a Cheerio crispy treat. I thought it was cheesy Cheerios and kept eating and eating and eating until all the sudden I realized it was really a very, very sweet marshmallow covered Cheerio treat. And in my dream, I felt ill from all the sugary excess. And then when I woke up, I felt ill and couldn't look at sweets all day long. And then on Sunday, I even had a hard time eating one cookie. I've never before been so affected by a dream.

Friday morning, I was lying in bed. W and I hadn't put the trash and recycling out the night before because we thought we'd be up early enough to get it to the curb by 8am. No problem, we thought. Yet, here it was 7:30am and we were still in bed. Awake, but just barely. And then we hear the sound of the truck and I kind of freak out. The garbage truck never comes early! I throw on clothes, grab our trash and run out the door only to realize it's the recycling truck, NOT the garbage truck. Oi vey! So I grab our recycling bin and run down the street after the recycling truck. The recycling man was nice enough to accept it even though it was in our indoor bin and not in the official blue outdoor bin. I was so pleased with myself. It's so nice to start the day with a success and that, my friends, was a major success for me! (I hate it when we have two weeks of recycling; it gets so unwieldy.)

So I'm walking my self-satisfied self home and I realize I am: 1) not wearing a bra, 2) wearing thick rimmed glasses, 3) wearing canvas boat shoes, and 4) have totally crazy hipster/bedhead hair, AND 5) I just chased after a recycling truck in that get-up. AND I was smug about all of it. I think that was one of my first real, true Cambridge-ite moments. High five?