A few hours ago, I was contentedly sitting in front of my computer, getting ready tell you hi! & did you miss me? & sweet merciful God, I am so over the whole 520-step interview process & blah blah talky talk talk blah. Then Chris called to tell me he was on his way home. Early! Dinner before nine o'clock! Woo hoo! And then I was further distracted by something shiny (oooh, lipgloss!) & before I had a chance to actually write anything, Chris was home. And he brought news. Of the "guess what happened on the way home" & "I'll tell you all about it after I call the insurance company" variety. Thankfully, Chris is fine, but Carmen (what, doesn't your husband name his car?) has seen better days. (Of course, she's also seen worse days. This is the third accident she & Chris have been in within the past year. The one with the turkey was much worse. But that's a story for another day.) Anyway, after that, we could hardly just stay home & eat frittata, could we? The situation clearly called for drastic mood-enhancing measures. Which, in this house, means ice cream. And we were quite happily enjoying our ice cream when a gentleman in a ginormous SUV backed into Chris' motorcycle in the DQ parking lot. Bang. Did I mention that said gentleman happens to be unlicensed? Of course he is. He also has more tattoos than teeth, but I suppose that's not strictly relevant.
If you need either of us, we will be sitting quietly on the couch, trying to avoid further incident. Please send liquor & chocolate.
Labels: rants and raves