A few minutes ago, someone rang my doorbell. I will never know who because when my husband is asleep, or not home, and my doorbell rings, I freeze. I slide down in my chair and refuse to move. It’s as if there is a t-rex at my door and if I move, he will find me and eat me. I assume it was someone selling me Jesus or a home security system, but in the back of my mind I can’t help imagining it was a man selling candy from a van who wants to abduct me and my child and take us to his basement and force us to perform show tunes for the next 30 years. This scenario got me thinking about other weird things I do-and I wonder who else does them. Is it so weird? You tell me. Here are some weird things I do: Continue reading
We are visiting my home town this week. Jack and I have accidentally turned a one night trip into three. Rick is working on his sweeps package and is recovering from his recent dance off for a great fundraiser for the Alzheimer’s Association. I got to spend one evening with two of my very best friends. We went to the only Mexican restaurant in our tiny town to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. Maggie, Kristen, and I at one point all lived in the same place and spent hours at a time doing nothing together on a regular basis. We were always good at nothing. That’s how you know you’ve reached the ultimate comfort level. When friends turn to family. When girl dates turn to watching The OC reruns until some minor responsibility needs to be carried out. Last night, we had planned on having some drinks and painting our nails. Things were supposed to get loud. Dancing and song bursts were supposed to occur.