I woke up this morning and we were out of coffee.


Third day in a row.

One would think, as much as I love my morning java, that I would’ve gone to the store to buy more. But ‘one would be wrong,‘ I think to myself, as I reach for a tea bag. Any brew will do! (That’s how fiercely determined I am to be on vacation from my ordinary responsibilities this week – including going to the grocery store.)

It’s Spring Break and my family has taken a trip without me for the second year in a row. For the past 2 days I’ve been home alone. Except for the coffee problem, it’s been pretty stinkin’ glorious.

I had something I had to do on Monday morning, but when I got home around noon, I put on my pajamas, fired up my Kindle, pulled the drapes and got in bed.

That’s where I spent the next 48 hours.

It was so dark in my room it was like a Vegas Casino. You couldn’t tell if it was daytime or nighttime.

Every hour or so, I either went to the bathroom or shuffled into the kitchen to scrounge for food. Or both.  Of course we didn’t have any food.

I managed to keep myself alive by eating tortilla chips with salsa. Delicious. It was like I was vacationing in Mexico. When the salsa was gone, I scraped the last of the chips across a stick of butter. When the chips were gone, I left the butter out on the counter to soften.

Because…always thinking ahead.

I went back to my bedroom, adjusted the thermostat to the “Winter Blizzard” setting and read more of my book. I think I might’ve dozed off a bit.

When I woke up, it was Monday night. I was cold and hungry. Like a little orphan. I went back into the kitchen and brewed some tea. I knew some toast would pair nicely with it.  We had 4 slices of stale bread.  Plus the butter was soft.

After I sustained myself on tea and toast, I read a little more. I might’ve been missing my husband a bit when I plugged in my heating pad. I guess I’m used to something warm radiating heat in the bed.

My makeshift “Heating Pad Hubby” worked so well that I may market it, because when I woke up again it was Tuesday. I shuffled into the kitchen, grimacing about the coffee situation as I brewed more tea. I donned a warm ugly sweatshirt (because it was super cold with the thermostat set so low), popped some popcorn and read my book.

All day.

Until Tuesday morphed into Wednesday. And then I remembered that Wednesday is the day my family comes home.

In a flurry of activity (okay not really, but if everything is as relative as they say, then it was indeed a flurry) I stripped the sheets off the bed to toss them in the washer. A few tortilla chips, toast crumbs and one kernel of popcorn fell off the fitted sheet. I’m glad I thought to wash them. I congratulated myself on my above-average housekeeping skills.

While I brewed more tea, I unloaded the dishwasher from the weekend.

When my family arrived home (a little earlier than I thought) I was in the laundry room folding laundry that had been resting comfortably in the dryer since Sunday. It was wrinkled, so I restarted the machine to give it a fluff.

I’m pretty sure that’s exactly where I was when they departed Monday morning.

As he unpacked his overnight bag, Jimmy asked me, “Whatcha been up to?” and I answered,

“Just catching up!”

I was a little surprised he refrained from saying anything smart-alecky.  (It’s like he senses he could be easily replaced by a $15 heating pad.)

Mostly I could tell he was relieved that I’m all caught up now.

And  I am.  I’m all caught up.