It snowed Sunday. A pretty good amount for Nashville, where even a dusting warrants all schools and government buildings closed.
(outside our back door)
I'm not a fan of snow. It only stirs within me a desire to move even deeper south. The good thing was that we didn't have to be at work until 10 on Monday because of it, so I was feeling pretty smug that I got a little bit of extra sleep and figured the roads would be clear by then... plus, then we had our work Holiday party that day, as well. Smuggy Smuggerson over here, thinking I was about to have the BEST. MONDAY. EVER.
As I warned a few posts ago (cookie incident), me being smug = BAD THINGS HAPPENING. I had not even made it out of my neighborhood (heading to the light that takes me out of it), and my car started skidding uncontrollably. I had two options - hit the person stopped at the light in front of me, or turn the wheel and hit the "triangles" (little landscaped cement-outlined lane separators at the entrance/exit of our neighborhood). So I aimed for the cement and got hung up on it, and was sure I blew my front tires, too. Just as I was about to call my boss and tell him I couldn't come to work because I totalled my car, a nice officer pulled up and helped me. Tires were not blown and the only thing wrecked was my ego.
On my way to work, this is what I saw when getting off on my exit:
They must have been feeling REALLY smug.
To add insult to (almost) injury, I lost the sock monkey wine bottle cover I really wanted in our office Dirty Santa game. I can't state it strongly enough, be ye not as smug as I was, lest you lose your monkey and your cookies runneth together.
In other, non-weather related news:
The gift vodkas are coming along nicely.
The Bip's stocking got so heavy that it toppled off of the hutch, taking the hook with it, and we had to relocate our stockings.
Gifts are being wrapped and put under the tree... I just love the look of wrapping them in kraft paper!
We had a luncheon at work on Friday and I was pretty hungry:
I also had a work-related Mac & Cheese incident last week. We had to bring a dish to take to the Ronald McDonald House, and I signed up for Mac & Cheese. Never mind that I had never made it from scratch before (I am a pretty good cook, if I do say so myself, but I really love Velveeta shells and cheese and have never had a reason to make it from scratch). I asked around for recipes before finding a simple one on the internet that only required noodles, velveeta, butter, milk, salt and pepper. Winner, right? It sounded so good (and easy) that I bought enough of the ingredients to make another batch for Josh and I to eat.
I followed the directions, stuck it in the oven, and 30 minutes later pulled out two pans of milk and noodle soup. We rummaged through the fridge, found another half a block of velveeta and put it in, then put it back in the oven. Several minutes later - still soup. Rummaged in the fridge some more, found a couple of bags of shredded cheddar. Dumped them in. Figured it couldn't get any worse and threw some seasoned breadcrumbs on top to at least give the illusion that I knew what I was doing. Popped it back in the oven, and pulled out a Christmas miracle:
It was delicious.
See? Smug gets you nowhere, but panic really makes things happen.