Today has been one of those days. Not necessarily bad, just not the kind you want to have your own personal Groundhog Day modeled after. Case in point? I got to chat with the dude from the gas company while wearing my “grandmotherly” bathrobe and my hair standing on end. I bet he wishes he hadn’t come to my door right then. I suppose the bright side of the whole catastrophe is the fact that by being freshly showered instead of my pajamas he may have assumed I was some health nut who’d been exercising for three hours. Of course, we all know I was swilling coffee and writing, but whatever. Continue reading
A few weeks ago my husband noted that key aspects of my personality hinge upon the fact that I don’t like surprises. That Mister Soandso, what a smartie. I suppose living with someone for two decades does give a person some insight. Because he is absolutely correct: I don’t like surprises.