Anatomy of an evening

I got home early from work today, completely exhausted.

I decide to take a nap and here's how it goes:

5:13 p.m. Go downstairs to nap. I decide that it would be a great idea to put the bed together so I can sleep on a real actual bed instead of a mattress on a box spring on a floor. The instructions read:

1) Insert wheels in bedframe (this is actually very detailed and not helpful, as it is perfectly obvious how the wheels just snap in.

2) Slide rails and side into place. (this is the entirely of this step. There are no DIAGRAMS or further hints, and since it's for a queen size bed, the rails and sides are pretty much the same fucking length. There is really no way to tell how this actually works. I trail and error it for a long while before I get it right)

3) Put bed on.

5:54 p.m. The bed is just together and the mattress is just right when I hear a noise upstairs. I investigate and it is Corwin, who is staying with us for a few days, I think, but I am not sure.

"Hey, where's everyone else?" I query.

"They're at Zoka," he says.

Now, theoretically I could go to take a nap, but really, I can't because there is now a man upstairs who I have met exactly twice before and that's just uncomfortable enough for me that I know I won't sleep. Plus, I am thinking about spiders for some reason and that makes me jumpy.

So I say, "Hey Corwin, how would you like some blueberry pie and vanilla ice cream?"

"That would be great!" says he. "You have that?"

I say, "No, get up, we're going to the store."

Shockingly, egged on by the thought of warm pie and cold ice cream, he complie and we drive to the store.

6:04 p.m. We are at the store. They have lots of pies, but no blueberry. We decide to work it from scratch. Surprisingly, he is very into this idea. We collect the ingredients we need (we almost get the workings for scratch ice cream, but we do not have an ice cream maker, so it's a no go) and pick up some half and half while we're at it, since I think it would be good for making fresh caramel sauce, and he reasons that if that doesn't work out, we can make White Russians. It's cool. We buy $25 worth of organic blueberries because a) we really have no fucking idea how much blueberry we need for this pie and b) they only have organic blueberries and they're expensive as all ass.

6:30 p.m. We make pie. I work the crust, he makes the fill.

7:02 p.m. The pie goes in the oven. At this point, I discover I do not actually know how to make caramel sauce and cannot find the recipe I thought I had. We decide White Russians are a good idea. He decides that we won't need an actual recipe, we'll flip chapters in The Big Lebowski so we can watch Lebowski make one and copy it. This is OK with me and it is done.

Those White Russians are hella strong.

7:47 p.m. The pie is almost done and Mike and Wil come home. Lucas is to follow with dinner fixings, as apparently he is making dinner tonight.

7:57 p.m. The pie is done and pulled.

8:30 p.m. Dinner is served. Some chicas are also over.

9:30 p.m. The pie is served with ice cream. It is still warm (so good!) and I collect compliments on my flaky and moist crust.

9:54 p.m. It is decided that everyone is going to Golden Gardens for a bonfire. I demur, as I must work tomorrow, and it's already my bedtime.

9:56 p.m. I clean up and put away dishes.

10:02 p.m. I blog.

10:17 p.m. I am definitely going to sleep right the fuck now.