I think I forgot to mention this two months ago, but HEY, we got a puppy a while back. Right after our Sober in Milwaukee trip, actually. His name is Shadow, and he's a four-month-old Border Collie. His proper name is Shadow of the Shire, which we just decided by family vote a few days ago. (I think this was my family's way of trying to get me to be more of a dog person.)

Anyway, there he is, giving me the, "I am totally destroying your keys, but you won't stop me because it's the cutest thing ever, NA NA-NA BOO BOO" look. (Note that I tried to name him Shadow, the Dark Terror of the Night.)

Topics Covered Whilst Working on Accounting Take-Home Test with Four Girls:

• Teachers, classmates, classes
• Hairstyles
• Cosmetics
• Lasik eye surgery
• Boys, boyfriends, etc.
• Christmas and birthday presents given by boyfriends
• Strip clubs
• Lap dances
• Breast cancer
• Breast implants

Topics Covered Whilst in Accounting Class:

• Hurricanes
• Baseball
• Football
• College football
• The economy
• Currencies around the globe
• Politics
• How bagels are made
• How forged steel is made
• The teacher's grandchildren
• The teacher's neighbors
• The teacher's children
• The weather forecast for this winter

Both groups spent as much time as possible avoiding the actual subject of accounting, leading me to believe that it will go down in history as one of the most boring conversation topics on the planet. Seeing that I plan on being a cat lady one day, I'll need to remember of much of this as possible. I'm pretty sure cat ladies are forbidden from being good conversationalists, so I will need to be able to swiftly transition from talk of direct labor and direct materials to a lecture on estimated factory overhead and how that will affect your net income.

Eight-year-old Rachelskirts hated folding socks. She hated helping with laundry in general (or with any chores, for that matter), but sock-folding was one of her least favorite aspects of the job.

Twenty-three-year-old Rachelskirts no longer folds her socks in neat little pairs. No, she throws her socks haphazardly in a drawer, ignoring her obsessive-compulsive tendencies in some rebellious attempt to avenge her childhood. Unfortunately, it took her almost ten minutes to find a matching pair of socks tonight (in the dark, albeit), and she could hear her mother cackling the entire time. "I told you so, I told you so!"

But never fear, my pretties. The war against folding socks (or sock monkeys!) shall continue, even if it means my feet freeze off this winter. I am just that dedicated.