I did it to myself. I really did. I thought about how calm and relaxing this week had been at work and how there wasn’t a whole lot to do. What happens at the exact moment that you realize everything is going smoothly? The world collapses in your lap.
Son of a Bitch.
After some frantic phone calls, I think we may have all of our bases covered. Pat has a large hate on for UPS, but right now I kind of want to stab DHL. Thankfully we have an amazing shipping consolidator who has taken this off of my hands. It is so refreshing to get to deal with people who actually WANT to help you and are so damn sweet.
I’m still reeling from all the phone conversations, so lets calm down with a photo post.
I know Costco can be cold, but does it warrant strangling yourself with a scarf and wearing leather gloves? IN DOORS.
I guess the gloves acted as meat juice protection.
This is me pretending that I don’t know the person in the other isle over. Conversation avoid-er.
It takes Chad about 10 minutes to find the perfect 6 apples for consumption.
Purchasing celery to eat with the dip I made a month ago. I’m going for food poisoning.
Tacos are our top choice for dinner after we’ve been grocery shopping.
Lean Ground Beef. My other nick name for Chad.
No one takes photos of me.
It’s probably a rape of my culture to not being buying these from an Italian Deli.
Oh God. I don’t even want to know.
Pick up the pace Mr. Ciavarro.
The cashier was too busy paying attention to some dude beside her. RUDE.
Since the moment Chad and I first started dating we’ve had this tradition of going to Costco & Safeway/IGA one day after work at the beginning of each month. We have always gone together. We do little stops to Safeway or IGA in between, but the big monthly trips are always done together. Then we come home and eat tacos. EVERY TIME.
Actually, the very first time we went to Coscto (Yes, I still remember it) we went back to his apartment and decided to eat what was left in his fridge/freezer before eating the new stuff, so we had BBQ chicken wings, carrots, and sliced white ‘toast’ bread. HA. It was our very first dinner at his apartment too. So romantical.
4 1/2 years of monthly shopping trips and Mexican food. That’s what I call love.









































































