17

I made the appointment for P.J.  This is going to be harder than I thought.

Un-Happy Feet

Today, for the first time in months, I am wearing socks and shoes to work.  I pushed the sandals as far as I could, and today I had to relent.  No more cropped pants, either.  So sad.

My feet are unhappy, for a short time, until they will be able to wear boots.  Maybe next week?  Within a few weeks, I hope.  It must be attributable to my weird mix of hippie and punk — sandals or boots, no other footwear please.  Besides figure skates, of course, the prettiest of all footwear.

Now I’ll have lots of socks to wash, not just wee socks for the gym or mowing the lawn, but many, many socks, mostly black, which will need to be properly paired up before being returned to their sock drawer.  What a pain.  If I could afford to, I’d stock up for the winter and toss each pair in the trash at the end of the day, just to avoid the whole laundering/pairing process.

It’s amazing what can bring out the laziness in me.

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Last Night

So, which of last night’s events am I more excited about, the news that the not-so-competent instructor is leaving the school or the phone call from Lala?

The correct answer would be (A) the news that the not-so-competent instructor is leaving the school.

I’m banking on the odds that her replacement will be better, not worse.  This is particularly good news as we are scheduled to complete theory in March.  I (and a number of my classmates) have been concerned about mastering theory well enough to be successful in the subsequent speed classes.  Goodbye and good riddance to the scatterbrained instructor!  Let the improved learning begin!

As for Lala, I’m more curious than excited.  Let’s see, we last left off about six months ago when, following a passionate smooch, he was going to call me upon return from his trip to Japan.  Predictably, that never happened.  The call, that is, not Japan.  Maybe Japan, too, but how the hell would I know?  So, last night, he calls out of the blue.  Don’t you just love the way he keeps popping into my life, like herpes or something?  Anyway, I agreed to go out with him tomorrow night (no school prior to holiday weekend).  This is strange, even for him.  I can’t even begin to imagine what’s going on in that head of his.

Lastly, I want to thank previously unknown to me reader Sheila for her wonderful idea about displaying my great-gram’s doilies:  Framing.  It’s perfect.  I plan to frame them and hang them in my bedroom, either alongside my bureau mirror (hung in a vertical row) or replacing my trio of colorful straw hats (hung horizontally, as the hats are).  It will be like snowflakes, year-round.  I especially like that they will be cat safe.  Many thanks, Sheila.

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What I Hate About You

“Reconfirm.”  One of the many reasons I loathe BFB Bob.  And attorneys in general.  When faced with an undesirable response, they tend to just keep asking the same question, often rephrased, until a desirable response is obtained.  Corporate nagging, if you will.

How about allowing me to reconfirm my hatred for you, you annoying, waste of my time, pain in the ass?

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