Last week the Universe and I were not getting along. Basically, it was having a tantrum and I was getting hit with the rotton tomatoes it was chucking around. But the Universe redeemed itself over the weekend and this week was going pretty well. It started on Tuesday when almost all the ingredients I needed to make this yummy dinner were on sale:

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I was so happy! It was hearty, tasty and made enough for two days worth of leftovers.

And then this morning arrived. I got out of the shower and realized that I was out of lotion. Well, I shouldn’t say I realized it today. I actually realized it over the weekend and have been trying to extract every last bit over the past few days, causing the bottle to make that lovely farting sound. But I didn’t buy any more.

So I get out of the shower and go to put lotion on my legs and it’s a no go. And any woman will tell you not putting lotion on just shaved legs is a bad idea. So I scrounge around the house until I find some lotion. But not just any lotion. Bath and Body Works Country Apple lotion.

I don’t know why I even have this lotion. I’m pretty sure it was a gift from one of the parents back when I worked at the daycare, which means it’s almost two years old and I have obviously never used it. Why? Because it reminds me of middle school–when holiday gifts from each and every friend were a gift bag of miniature lotions and body sprays in usually one of three scents: Country Apple, Freesia or Cucumber Melon. (I wore that Cucumber Melon Body Spray for years.) And I didn’t really want to smell like I was in middle school.

Unfortunately, I had no choice.

Afterwards, I got dressed and headed off to meet my carpool buddy. She commented on how she loved my black and white dress, which I had paired with a red tank and black flats. As I thanked her, I glanced down to admire it. Only then, in the bright morning sunlight, did I notice that the dress is actually white and navy blue. Smartly paired with a red tank and black shoes. Sigh.

So here I am, sitting at my desk, wearing a clashing outfit and smelling like a freaking orchard.

Thanks, Universe. You’re a peach. Or should I say, a Country Apple.

Updated: Because you guys want the recipe! It’s called Peasant Pasta and just ignore the fact that Rachel Ray made it. I halved the recipe and only used the spicy sausage and we had plenty.

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