They come, they eat, they leave*

(Seen at the store yesterday and struck me as funny. Idk maybe it's not to anyone else)

Yesterday I thought I had scratched my eye, it stung and I couldn’t keep it open when I was driving in to work because the sun was aggravating it.  I had to pull off the road and called my boss to tell her I would be late.  Then I went to the eye doctor to have it checked.  Turns out I have an infection, so I have drops for my eyes and have to wear my glasses until I purchase new contacts. 

I have decided two things.  The first – wearing glasses makes me feel like the awkward post 15 year old that I was and two – I have absolutely no depth perception.  I think I may injure myself before the new contacts arrive.

So last night was super crazy.  My home teachers (HT) were supposed to come at 5:30 and the missionaries at 5:45.  HT were going to teach us real quick and then join us for dinner.  Well, the HT were late and the missionaries were late too.  The Missionaries got there about 6 o’clock or so and said that they couldn’t stay long because they had another appointment (there day turned out to be super crazy).  Meanwhile, the HT call and say they are near a graveyard, where do they go from there? …you guessed right, they were lost.  So we help them, then we eat quickly with the missionaries.  They apologize a million times over and then go to their next appointment.  

Then some man comes to the door and asks if I have accepted Jesus as my Savior, “Yes, I have!” I told him.  He gave me a flyer with a website and we wished each other a good evening.  Then the HT show up and grab some food and sit down to teach us. They couldn’t stay long either (this is how I like things though).  So they leave and I talk to Caitlin for a bit before going to lay down while I wait for Matt to show up. Matt comes, we walk to the car and some truck stops and ask if so-and-so lives here.  I shook my head and he was like, “Do you know the people who adopt dogs?” Uh….nope (and my instinct tells me not to venture closer to the car).  He keeps going, “They said it was the fifth house on the right.” One. Two. Three. Four…I guess that’s me.  I try to help the guy but it’s just not happening, I’m useless.  He says he’ll drive to the end of the street – and I’m not sure how that will help but I hope it did. 

Matt and I get in the car and try to decide where to go and in the meantime we see our new friend in the truck again.  Then my neighbor comes and backs his truck up into his driveway at super lightening speeds and while that’s happening another truck (I live close to Ashland, the land of trucks and honey) goes to the drug dealers’ house (oh p.s. Caitlin and I think the house at the end of the street is occupied by drug dealers – possibly not, but we don’t like them either way – they have fights in the middle of the street…seriously).  Matt notices the guy there looks like he is trying to put his garbage in someone else’s trashcan (like I know Matt’s mom does because she drops trash off at my sister’s house all the time).  So we start watching the guy as he is crossing the street back to his house, garbage bag still in hand. He lifts the lid of his garbage can and puts it in, then tries to press down the lid with his hands. When that isn’t as effective as he would like, he proceeds to climb up on the garbage can and

 Jump

 On

 It!!

 I don’t know how many of you have dealt with a county provided garbage cans, they are sturdier than most – but not sturdy enough for this monkiery! (And yes – that’s a made up word).  We both watch…waiting for the man to fall off the trash can, or for the can to collapse in on itself or to tip over….SOMETHING catastrophic.  But alas, nothing happened.  The man dismounted with more grace than I could have imagined and went inside his house.  We were just sitting there in shock and Matt says, “I’ve never seen that before, I’ve never seen anybody drive their garbage down to the street and beat the heck out of it.”*  That’s a man after my own heart.  We started the car and drove to Barnes and Noble.

Gosh I love this street*