Potatoes by mail and other randomness

Yeah, that's right: We got potatoes in the mail. They're from Betty Crocker.


These aren't you basic free potatoes, either. This is a whole friggin' box of Roasted Garlic Betty Crocker potatoes-- 2 pouches, 4 servings each -- such as you would buy in the grocery store. I know this because last Tuesday we actually did buy these kinds of potatoes.


In other happy news, I officially have a doctor in the city again. Less than two miles from our front door, no less! This is especially spiffy because my Seattle ARNP has yet to call in that refill for my Wellbutrin that Walgreen's contacted her about... over a week ago. Yeah, my serotonin levels are all over the map this past month or so, as her refilling speed has decreased exponentially.


But seeing a new doc also meant I'm now trying Adderall for my energy meds. If this works out, we'll be saving about $70 a month over the Provigil. That would be fabulous!


Unfortunately, not everyone's Monday was quite so happy -- and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who got postal potatoes:


Blogging Away Debt had a case of the Mondays. Usually I boo anyone using such a phrase, but her Monday is such that she gets a pass.


Wealth Pilgrim won my heart by not only equating finances and food (a metaphor near and dear to my own heart) but by extrapolating some unique rules from it. '


Frugal Dad is dealing with the loss of a parent and takes some time to reflect on a subject I dwell on all too often: The Real Costs of Depression.


Budgets are Sexy asks readers for their input: One woman's grandfather bought her a replacement for a now-dead car; but it's way more than she wanted to spend, and she doesn't want to owe him. (Lots of people weigh in. I, being my therapy-ized self, think she needs to stop asking all of us how she should feel and ask herself why she feels the way she does. I say it better in the comments, trust me.)



But I want to hear what you buys think about this gal and her new (to her) car. What would you tell her?