Tuesday, December 06, 2016

My pants are wet...and other nonsense

There once was a girl from Nantucket...

Okay, Connecticut.  Close enough, right?


Besides kids, coffee, and cats, do you know what my favorite thing is?  You don't?  Good, because neither do I.  Probably music.  Or food.  Yeah, food is always good.  But music is food for the soul, and that's equally as important.


The parking lot behind the building where I work is not large enough to accommodate everyone who works in the building.  Also, folks who work in other buildings park there, too, because they'd rather do that than park any further away.  What that means is, I have to park quite a ways from the building.  On most days, it's not an issue.  I don't mind walking.  But this morning, not only did I have a bunch of stuff to bring into the building for our annual holiday party, but it was pouring rain.  I was loaded down!  So now, my pants are wet.  My boots are wet.  My socks are wet because my boots apparently leak.  And, as an observation and a public safety message, it is difficult, not to mention un-fun (yes, it is a word), to try to juggle both an umbrella, and a box containing a carefully prepared red berry fruit salad, without fumbling anything.


Contrary to belief, I am not a horrible, nagging hag.  I do not live to annoy you.  Not everything which comes out of my mouth is intended to be snippy.  I apologize if my normal voice offends you, but sometimes it's hard to maintain this sweet personality everyone knows and loves.  (Say nothing further and I might allow you to keep your appendages.  "Fezzik, tear his arms off!")  Lots of folks have said how nice I am (which is wonderful and makes my heart soar) and my automatic, and honest, response is, "Well then I guess you don't know me very well!"


I've always wondered...

Why can't people shut doors, or turn off lights, or not pee on the toilet seat?

Why didn't God gift me with more musical talent?

Why am I not smarter?  Or, rather, why do things which seem so simple for some people confuse the heck outta me?

Why can't I convince my kids that clean rooms are a good thing?


Just some random ramblings on a rainy Tuesday.


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