It Should Come As A Shock To No One That I Have A Fucking Mental Problem.


Okay, so I *might* have a well documented school-supply hoarding situation.  Bottom line: if it’s on deep discount, I’ll buy it, and at any given moment, I am completely capable of opening my own OfficeMax.  My coworker used to just find my stash impressive, but now when I text her my victories, she just finds it concerning.

Me: Target clearance!  I just scored 77 spiral notebooks for $8!!!

Michelle: Okay, that’s awesome, but how many can you possibly use?

Me: I use them!

Michelle: You used maybe 20 last year.

Me: See!  I’m covered for almost 4 years!

Michelle: And the 200 you already have in the closet?

Me: Shhhhhh….let me have this.

War of the Fiskars



(A series of texts from one of my friends, who is dropping off his first-born at college.  Oh, and he and his wife hate each other.  A lot.)

Drew: “At the airport.  Apparently she bought him school supplies.  For college.  School supplies.”

Me: “Well, he’s going to need stuff, right?  Take it easy.”

Drew: “Meg, we checked seven bags.  SEVEN.  And she packed the school supplies in MY carry on.  I’ll give you three guesses what happened to the scissors.”

Me: “Oh shit…TSA?”

Drew: “Yes, TSA.  And they threatened ME, as if any of this was my doing.  Apparently, we’re also safer flying without the red Swingline stapler.”

Me: “Did you guys also get him the big box of crayons, because that built-in sharpener is going to get you strip searched.”

Drew: “You think you’re kidding, but this is going to happen.  I’m going to wind up in a federal prison over a math compass.”

Me: “She didn’t do it on purpose.”

Drew: “I’m not convinced.  But it WILL BE on purpose when we’re flying home, and I slip a pair of scissors in her carryon next to a giant tube of anal lube and a zucchini.”

Me: “She’s going to stab you in your sleep.”

Drew: “Worth it.”