treasure hunt

So I got up this morning in a somewhat grumpy mood.

Sleep was slow in coming last night. Okay, so I fell asleep at around 4:30 AM, so I guess that is an inaccurate statement. Grumps not withstanding, I was bound and determined to locate my sense of humor under the pile of rubble I so affectionately call home.

I figured I'd try the refrigerator first. I've found many unusual items in there before, and I could kill two birds with one stone as gnomes were climbing all over me in effort to bring forth the inner breakfast chef. Since my humor wasn't to be found, however, the predators had to content themselves with Pop Tarts and cereal.

I looked in the pile of laundry next. I did manage to find a marble, a rubber band, three half eaten tortilla chips, a W-2, and countless legos, but no trace of comic relief.

Off I trundled toward the hall closet. After I managed to dig out from under the assorted coats, scooters, and power tools which avalanched upon opening the door, I did a thorough search. Nope.

The upstairs was beckoning. I stalled - knowing as I do that the upper reaches of this domicile are more likely to contain nuclear waste and biochemical weaponry. Soon, however, I could delay no longer.

No humor. I did locate a pile of mismatched socks. Does that count for anything?

If you happen to find the more lighthearted side of my nature, feel free to leave it in the comments section of the blog. My family would be most appreciative.