I have had this jumpy, OH SH*T! kind of feeling all week, the one where you fully expect the phone to ring and for something to have burned down. In fact, I made the threat on Monday "DO NOT CALL ME UNLESS THIS RESTAURANT (OR ANY) ARE BURNING DOWN!" - and then I immediately regretted tempting Murphy's Law like that.
Those are the ones you tell for YEARS. Remember that time? Yeah, I willed that thing en FUEGO! Nice.
So, um, no more threats like that.
The last few weeks have been so completely circus-like that we literally do NOT know what to do this week. We have no where to be. No appointments or events or work or sitters to shuffle.
Today? Today we are going to weed the garden. And go buy an ass load of hibiscus to plant along the front fence. Because I can't stand this level of un-green and lackluster landscaping effort.
"Perhaps I should plant oleanders instead?" I asked JR as we were driving. "I love oleanders. But I would have to keep them pruned, otherwise it would look like I live in an oleander."
I could probably think of worse scenarios.
A friend says there a woman who exists who remembers every single detail of her life. Every conversation, everything she says, everything she does, down to the exact date and time.
And while I can't remember what I ate for dinner last week, I do remember the way oleanders smell in spring, that they are poisonous to horses and that they stand for everything strong and feminine and gorgeous.
So maybe we do oleanders instead. My choice. I'm the mutha'.
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