This weekend I went to my best friend's baby shower. Not only did I not feel or hear the ticking of a clock inside, I was left to watch the hostess's two children while she was cleaning dishes afterwards -- the little boy banged his head against the coffee table and the 8 month old girl fell flat on her face from a seated position. Both children were screaming, and I couldn't figure out why they were so accident prone? Maybe it's just genetic.
The things that I have are not the things that I want. I keep trying to decorate the new apartment with the old apartment decor, but it's not working. I'm frustrated with all of it. I do love the extra closet space in the bigger apartment, though. Not to mention, there's outside storage on the balcony, a free storage closet in the hall outside, and a garage. Technically, we could sub-let some of that space to someone if they were interested and didn't require air conditioning.
When I was a kid, I could play outside all day long in the sun and never get sunburned. My brother and I certainly didn't look like we were the spawn of white parents. Especially my brother, with his very black eyes and very black hair and very dark skin. He really was a pretty little boy...I digress. Now, I burn. I'm burned today, because I spent a little time at the pool on Saturday. I just don't get it. I want that kid skin back.
I don't like punishing my dog.
Monday has so much
promise, you know? I make a mental list of all the work things I have to accomplish in a week. At the end of the week, nothing from the list is done, but not because I wasn't working. I have no idea what happens.
We saw Bob Schneider on Saturday night at Trees. It was a good show. As we were walking to our car, I said to Todd, "I think I have a very low tolerance for drunk people who have no respect for my personal space." He said, "Yeah, tell me about it. I could tell." I didn't mean for it to be so obvious, but when there is only enough room to stand still and enjoy your drink and watch the show, maybe you shouldn't try swing dancing. Maybe if you're really drunk you shouldn't try swing dancing, because it's pretty damned funny when you both fall on your ass, even if that fall is directly IN my personal space. Also, waving your arms in the air like you just don't care doesn't mean the person behind you also does not care.
What happened to me? I'm old. I'm old and I can't take drunk dancing people. I used to be a drunk dancing person.
Maybe I'm hormonal. Not in the "with child" way, though. Just to clear that up for everyone. :)
