I wasn’t shootin for a Beatles theme this week, but here we are, A Day In The Life — or a week o’ mine.
The Mister began, “Taylor Swift passed,”
We all stared at him with wide eyes.
“Whitney Houston in the number of …”
“Yeah, really not a good place for a comma.”
“Right? I was like, what the hell happened?”
“Killed like Caesar, all her ex-boyfriends took turns stabbing her.”
“Jesus! She’d be minced if that were the case!”
My husband brought me a huge bouquet of flowers. Gotta take the lilies out special, cause pets. Lilies shine on their own, too.
Y’all, last Saturday, five of us Motterns went to my office and we hustled files like it ain’t no thang. We boxed and stored and slipped into shred and although we did some sweating, (except Moo, she merely glistens) it was actually fun. The Mister said, “That was so good family time.” I had to agree. I think, sadly, it had been too long since we all worked on one task together. While I had suggested the boy one be paid as he cannot be arsed to work without monetary compensation, we all received overpayment for our services, which tickled the young people senseless. One of my bosses said she would have had to pay professionals more and it would have taken longer. True. Also true? I REALLY wanted it done. (ie, I would have paid Bubba!)
On Sunday night the carpets were cleaned and on Monday I walked into my office of no files looming over my head and I smiled. Briefly. Heh.
There comes a time when you have worked and coffeed and you are hangry and you will cut a bitch if you don’t eat your lunch and that time is 3:28pm. So help me, I will answer the phone with a glob of PBJ in my cheek. I do not give a fuck. Bitches gotta eat. Do y’all read her?
I forgot Papa’s birthday. He’s 79 now. Seventy-niiiine. And in EXCELLENT health. He forgives me. He’s got love in his heart.
I miss my parents. All of them.
Finally one of the sick people came back Wednesday and when I arrived and saw her car I praised the Lord. She’d be all, “Sorry to bother you…” and I’d be all, “No, no, how can I help?” anything for youuu! What she accomplished on Wednesday allowed me to accomplish so much more and the heavens opened up and the angels sang and when I left Wednesday night, my desk was clear.
Then I found out we get a new hire in next week. Sweet relief!
Just like that, all the tension left my body and the anxiety frequency slowed to a hum.
I drove home singing Skunk Anansie like Pavarotti invited me to.
Unfortunately, we decided to eat Taco Hell for the first time in ten years. One half star, Do not recommend. Cherry Pepsi still yum.
My new shoes arrived. They’re comfortable. No one cares.
Moo announced, “I got good use out of my shaved legs!”
This makes me laugh uproariously still.
“They work whether you shave them or not, right?”
“I wore my shorts!”
For new adventures in volunteering, The Mister got certified to drive the multi-use bus. The Short Bus. This has provided us tremendous joke opportunities, but this is still my favorite:
“You gotta pick me up.”
“No. Daddy can bring you home on the short bus.”
“No. You gotta pick me up.”
“No. You will ride the short bus with Daddy.
My husband filled Blanche up for me.
My husband changed his schedule. He goes in later. This makes him a nicer person. In my bed.
“Are you coming home now?”
“Not going to the store?”
“I dunno. Fings we said we needed.”
“Dog biscuits, trash bags, croutons, somethin else.”
“If you don’t remember, how am I supposed to remember?”
“I dunno. Be a woman. You remember most of it and then you just send your husband back for what you forgot.”
I asked Sassy if she remembered.
“I had to run a 4:30 to get a B. But first, some back story.”
> insert the long tale of a questionable apple and a subsequent rash <
“So did you run a 4:30?”
“Oh no, what did you run?”
On Thursday, I didn’t have time to door, but I did make time for ice cream.
Happy Friday Everyone!