Need Some Pasta?

Please do not submit my name to that Hoarders show.

Relax, it’s just 27 boxes of pasta.  Twenty seven FREE boxes of pasta.
No big deal.

I’m waiting for a food drive to donate most of it, but how could you reasonably expect me to pass over a free pasta deal?  I mean, really?  Free!  Pasta!  What could possibly be better than that?

Except free chocolate and coffee.  Wouldn’t that be sweet?

In other news, I’m losing my marbles.  I’d tell you all about it, but it’s really quite ridiculous and I fear that upon this realization, one of you might have me committed.  Then I’d have to change my blog name from the Neurotic Housewife to the Medically Sedated Housewife. 

I don’t want to change my blog name.

And I most certainly do not want to be medically sedated.

I do, however, wish I didn’t spend the majority of my days worrying about ridiculous things which are all beyond my control.  You’d think after nearly 35 years on this planet I’d have given  up by now, but it appears that my desire to waste my life worrying, fretting and over analyzing EVERYTHING has only accelerated with age.

I would really hate to see what my insides look like.  A lifetime of guilt, worry, fear and anxiety coupled with hundreds of gallons of ingested caramel colored, chemical laden diet soda has probably rendered my insides unrecognizable.  Hopefully all the exercise I do has reversed some of that damage. 

In an effort to, you know, not die young, I’ve been trying to take a more ‘zen’ approach to life, but that only works when I’m in between things to worry about. Evidently, I cannot be zen when I’m actually worried about something, which totally defeats the purpose.  Green tea isn’t helping, either.

I’m a zen failure.

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