Anyways, on to the story.
My, you are gullible. Did you REALLY believe that Peter got me a puppy for my birthday after all of those posts about how he knows I don't enjoy dogs?? Come now. You know me better than that. Also, when I typed that, I was speaking in a British accent in my head. Bloody 'ell.
Now, on to bigger and better things. The REAL reason that I didn't blog yesterday was because I couldn't find my camera cord, but I found it now so I can share some pictures with you.
On my favorite day of the year, I woke up feeling older and wiser. Since I was feeling older and wiser, I only hit the snooze once instead of 3 times. Since I only hit the snooze once, I had time to straighten my hair instead of wearing it up, and straight hair days are always better. Also, since I hustled my bustle a little bit, I left early and went to Starbucks for a birthday treat. It is shocking how a 1 snooze vs. a 3 snooze can make such a huge difference. This day had all the makings to be great. The only hiccup that I had in the morning was that when I walked outside, I didn't realize it was going to be really humid out, and so my hair got frizzy pretty quick, and I ended up putting it in a ponytail. Meh.
Went to work. My friend Ashley took me out for lunch. I left work 10 minutes early since it was my birthday. Got home at 5 instead of 5:10. Started getting anxious because Peter said that I could come over... When he told me I could.
After checking the clock every 26 seconds, I texted Peter to see if I could come over.
Finally went over at 6:01. Walked in the door. Saw my presents on the table. Made small talk for 33 seconds. Asked if I could open my presents.
 |
| I look like the devil in this picture... But I couldn't figure out how to get rid of the red-eye. Shoot. |
He over-taped the presents, so it took me a little while to open those suckers (like 11 seconds instead of 2).
The first present was a gift card to my favorite store. I was very happy, because I like my favorite store, and I like shopping at my favorite store even more.
The second present waaaaaaaaaaaas...
Bed sheets. Pretty bed sheets. But I was very, very confused. So I said that I liked them. Because I really did, I was just thinking that this was very random. And then I opened the third present......
Which waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas........................................
A new bedspread. Which I also really liked. But I was even more confused. Because my mom just bought me a new comforter set for my new apartment, and I really like the set that my mom got me. So then I started thinking, "My this is a passive way for Peter to tell me that he hates my comforter."
But Peter isn't into the whole torture thing that I'm into, so after about 3 seconds of me being confused, he said, "And THOSE!! THOSE are to put on your neeeeeeeeew mattreeeeeeeeessssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (New mattress, for those of you who can't read game show host speak)
And then I was very very very happy.
Let me give you some background.
When I moved from Lake Geneva to Green Bay, I was able to bring one of the beds from my grandma's spare bedrooms. This bed... This bed is old. The mattress is even older. I kid you not, I think that it's probably from the seventies or something. Since it's old, it doesn't really have any support. At all. You don't sit on my bed. You sink into my bed. Even if I sit on the edge of my bed to put on socks or something, I basically somersault backwards because a fall into the hole that is my bed.
Now, I want to be clear (mostly because I don't want my mother to think that I am complaining about this bed that was so generously given to me) - this bed is fine. I sleep right in the middle of it, so I usually don't have any problems, except that sometimes I wake up with a kink in my back, and then I have to put a pillow between my knees like I'm 84 years old instead of 24 years old. And then I start laughing at myself because I feel like an idiot, and then I REALLY can't get back to sleep. It's a sad situation.
I seriously considered buying a new mattress. I mean, I am a girl that needs her sleep Ttrust me... You don't want to be around a sleep-deprived Sara. (Ask Peter, he'll tell you how awful it is), but I didn't want to invest in one at this point in my life and career (I mean, I get a steady paycheck, but it's not like it has six figures or anything) because the one that I have is fine. Really. (But for the record, even my DAD was like "Yeah, Sar, you're going to have some back problems with this mattress" when he helped move me into my new place.)
But maaaaan oh maaaaaaaan, I don't even have this new mattress yet... and my back ALREADY feels better. I'm not sure when this mattress will be acquired, but when it does, I think that my life will change.
Peter spoils me rotten. My mother reminds me often how much he spoils me. I know it too, and I've accepted it. I've accepted that I've found someone that will spoil me to the core, and then keep spoiling me more. I've accepted that no matter how many times I say, "Peter, you are too good to me," he still somehow manages to out-do himself once again.
Despite what you may think (especially if you don't know me and my sense of humor very well), I have genuinely loved every gift that Peter has ever gotten me, even though I give him a hard time about it. Sometimes I wonder about what you all think about the relationship that Peter and I have. Let me assure you, you only see a teeny tiny part of it. It cracks me up, because I've gotten several emails from people that know me, but not Peter, saying "I really want to meet Peter, because he's either really awesome, or you make him sound really good."
When people say that to Peter, he says, "She makes me sound good."
But let's get real - he's really awesome. And I'm so happy to be dating him, even when it's not my birthday and he's showering me with gifts and cupcakes from Coldstone.
No comments:
Post a Comment