Some days, you just know.
Earlier this week, in what has been a beautiful, pre-autumn wonderland with sunshine and chilly breezes, I walked downtown three times in less than 24 hours. The girls and I got ice cream. We went to breakfast. The whole family had lunch.
Lord help us when the sandwich shop (which, incidentally, is getting a liqu-or lic-ense, said sing-songily), Cozi, opens later this fall. I'm going to need a job to support my downtown eating habits.
So Steve leaves for Montana and I have this car, to do with what I will. I have an errand at the mall I want to run, so the girls and I get this parking spot, get all of our crap out of the car, go inside, walk through the entire building, realize they don't have what I want, go to the food court (promised Carolyn french fries. I know. Bad mommy), become annoyed with busy food court, return to car, put all of my crap back inside car, get annoyed by other drivers and, finally, leave.
It's just not that great, this whole I-have-a-car-that-I-can-use-whenever-I-want. Sure, it's nice to have the option of driving downtown, which I almost did today until I thought about what a huge pain it would be. Even with a mile between our house and downtown, walking is still easier, most of the time.
Now, we'll see how I feel at the end of February.