Best thing about the new house: no stairs.

I do not at all in the very least not one bit miss walking up and down the creaky staircase three, four hundred times a day. The stairs were loud and dirty and hard to clean.  They leaned, there was no rail, and worst of all, they were slippery as hell.  Those stairs, paired with gravity and its slapstick sense of humor, ate my lunch more times than I’m willing to admit publicly.  Every time, someone was inevitably watching, biting their tongues, waiting to see if the concussion was ‘serious’ before they (usually Zack or Katy) laughed their asses off at my Charlie Chaplinesque comedic suaveness.  Neither me, nor my bruised ego, miss that damn staircase.

Worst thing about the new house: the driveway.

I realize that it’s a petty thing to whine about, but it really does make me a little crazy.  The driveway is really steep at the new house, with tall curbs on either side.  You have to pay a good deal of attention when you’re pulling in and backing out, so you don’t, you know, wreck your car. The driveway is long, which is nice, but it’s just one lane, and it doesn’t lend itself to more-than-1-car parking.  If Zack comes home after me, and we don’t purposefully do a car swap, he traps me in.  When that happens, there is only one option: The Shuffle.

This means that in the morning, when I’m dashing out the door to work, laden with school books and shoes and tupperware containers stacked in canvas totebags that weigh A MILLION pounds, I have to stop.  I have to turn around and go inside. I have to wake up Zack (for about the 4th time each morning).  I have to get his keys, then I have to get in his vehicle, move his vehicle, get out of his vehicle, go back inside, give him his keys back, go back out of the house, lock up the house, then get in my car and go.  ALL WHILE CARRYING THE BAGS.

WHY DIDN’T I SET DOWN THE BAGS THIS MORNING? Morning time sometimes makes me an idiot.

This line of thought also brings me to a very crutial question: where in Tarrant County can I get a FRIGGING NISSAN KEY MADE?  Cause really. If I had a key to Zack’s car, that would have removed about 30 steps.  Everywhere we go, they dont carry the blank that they’d need to cut me a copy of his key. HIS KEY, OF WHICH WE HAVE ONLY ONE. Help?