I Miss Sean

No, this is not a soppy, “I miss my soon-to-be-married ex-roommate(s)” post. This is more along the lines of, “Now that I don’t have a boy over at my house all the time I have to clean out my own damn storm drain” post. I’m not the type to call up the Elder’s Quorum every time I need a little favor (I’ve moved five people in the last six months without male assistance, thank you very much), but standing in stagnant water scooping out leaves, dirt, sand (?) and Lord knows what else from the drain in front of my garage with a slotted spoon that I’ll NEVER be able to use in my kitchen again (while being attacked by the largest wolf spider I’ve seen in recent memory) is NOT my idea of a good night.

But, I did it. By myself.


Dear Designers of Aforementioned Storm Drain,

I am beginning to hate you with a fiery passion I had previously reserved only for dictators and bratty Mormon girls from Idaho or Utah (you know the ones I mean).

Regards,

Leah

p.s. Remember that time Sean flung storm drain gunk onto the windshield of the neighbor that ALWAYS blocked Sarah and me in? Yeah, that was a good time.