You know what’s a conundrum? When you’re hungry, but not too hungry, but hungry enough to know you need to eat a little something or risk waking up starving…but you’re too tired to cook, and too lazy to go get something, and if you do go out, it needs to be something remotely healthy. And so you say to heck with it and fix some Hamburger Helper because it’s delicious and comforting and quick. And you don’t have to put shoes on. The weather has been perfectly miserable. I drove most of the way back from Cookeville in the rain. When it wasn’t raining, it was foggy. Once I got Knoxville, the rain had nearly stopped, but that’s when the traffic congestion started. You cannot win. But the good news is I still made it in just over two hours, there were no super close calls, and I only hydroplaned once 😳 I may not ever get constipated, but I’m discovering I do get writer’s block. I’m sitting here, perched in the corner of my couch, looking around the room and wondering what I could possibly write about. All the subjects in my head seem too controversial. Besides, I’ve already written about the majority of them at least once already. You know, the Selfie Trend, and fake smiles and fake lips and fake lashes and not living in the moment. And how you can be a very pretty girl…
I’m a day late, and I petition you for your grace and understanding. I was in no way shape or form able to write last night, even if I had a subject in mind, let alone the time. And since yesterday was the most exciting day of my year thus far, of course this will be another journal-esque entry. It’s a good demonstration of how one without kids or attachments lives their life. 6:30 and I’m up, drinking water (gonna be too hot for coffee), and doing my Wordle. I get it in three and I was super proud of myself. Aloof, in case you’re curious. Double letters usually give me the devil, especially when the word begins with a vowel. My head just doesn’t wanna work like that. So as I’m sending Lisa a text to say how many guesses it took, as is our custom first thing in the morning, and I see she is typing me something. I figure it’s her Wordle number. But no. “You wanna drive out to Cookeville this afternoon and spend the night and hang out?” And me, with basically no obligations to anyone whatsoever, is like, “Sure! But lemme make sure Angela can let Chessie out in the morning.” Because that dog constitutes the entirety of my responsibilities, apart from work. And lo and behold, Angela could, and I started working out a timetable in my brain of when I should leave, and…