lost puppy.

I've been sort of a lost puppy lately. Don't get me wrong, if I were a actually a puppy my tail would be wagging. I'm always having a good time, but I'm just sort of wandering aimlessly through this new stage of life. This is par for the course it seems. No one said moving would be easy, except me. Me? Yeah, I thought this would be cake.

Watching Talladega Nights, I laughed as Ricky Bobby exclaimed "I'm not sure what to do with my hands!" Years later, that's exactly what it feels like. Sort of. I'm here, I'm just no what sure what to do.

"What do you want to do tonight?" I don't know? Are there options? C, I pick C.

I have claimed a grocery store. It's is a larger feat than one might realize considering there is a Harris Teeter about every .25 miles. So now when I declare a heroic trip to the grocery store, T can rest easy knowing which store to call if I go missing, which - in all seriousness - could happen. Some nice store clerk is going to tap me on the shoulder as I read wine label after wine label and say "excuse me, ma'am1, I believe there is an amber alert out for you." And, I'll be all, "did you know you can buy wine at the grocery store!?!"

Oh, and I found TjMaxx2.

Mr. T3 and I have been church-dating4, and think I've found a new church group.

Maybe I'm not that lost? But, if I am - at least lost puppies are cute?

1. We are in the south. 2. Thank heavens. It's my happy place. Discount HOBO and BCBG shoes? Why am I even defending this?
3. My grandma calls him this. I found it hilarious until I realized this was the name of one of his fantasy baseball teams. Actually, it's still hilarious.
4. New church every Sunday until we find one that sticks, duh.