Getting there, getting there ...
I was up late blogging about how I felt guilty about being kind of snarky (but it's necessary and authentic), and then had a weird fitful night of sleep because I thought I saw another red leather purse on my table identical to my purse, and I feared that a scary twin was inside my house. I really don't sleep well when I have the house all by myself, although I'm technically NOT alone since there were multiple felines sleeping on my legs. So, my plans to wake up early and finish the installment were thwarted a bit by the 30 minutes I spent walking around my house at 3: 30 a.m., turning on lights, forgetting all the while why I was doing it, and then remembering the duplicate purse, which I then couldn't find or remember.
Here's something to check out in the meantime. When I left, the piano man was singing "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" in a Vegas-y arrangement. He was alone in the foyer, but wasn't letting that stop his show. So those are the words that danced in my head as I tugged at papers pinned to my clothes and burned rubber out of the parking lot.
Here is a picture of the one cute guy in my life (but no, he's not in this installment), as well as some girls having fun.
1 comment:
count on those cats for safety.
Post a Comment