I have a huge Wal-mart list, but I haven't had time to go. Instead, I made a quick stop at the grocery store for the vitals. Three two-gallon jugs of water, a 12 oz bag of milk chocolate chips, and a bottle of Tylenol.
Since you can't go out in public here without seeing someone you know, I ran into one of my professors.
"That makes so much sense," she said after a quick glance at the items in my hand. "On so many levels."
I laughed it off. There was no way she'd believe the water was a weekly purchase, the Tylenol because I finally ran out of the nasty store-brand pain reliever I bought in the spring, and the chocolate chips were not for eating.
Well, they were. Sort of.
Last week Kristin posted a microwave recipe for peanut butter cups, and I wanted to try them. So, I did the logical thing. I printed the recipe and glued it in my Writer's Notebook, then saved a digital copy just in case. It was in that moment that I realized I am officially one step closer to adulthood.
I don't cook. Ok, I can make a coveted cheese dip. That's about it. Until now. Now I can make peanut butter cups, too. What more does a person need, right?
PS: If you're going to try the recipe, don't cut the muffin papers in half (at least I didn't) and let them thaw between the second cooling and eating or be prepared for a little someone (aka my roommate Jennifer) to make a mess of peanut butter.