After showering and heading to my room to get dressed, I made a split-second decision about whether or not to take the extra time and effort to close the blinds of my first story window: Nope.
And that was when the school bus drove by.
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After showering and heading to my room to get dressed, I made a split-second decision about whether or not to take the extra time and effort to close the blinds of my first story window: Nope.
And that was when the school bus drove by.
Mike cracked me up this morning when describing the things he’d accomplished before 9 a.m.
“Well, I woke up and read the Internet for a while …”
OK, so maybe you had to be there, but the idea of “reading the Internet” cracks me up. It’s accurate for sure, but perhaps a bit, er, ambiguous.
How today is going to turn out will be a complete crap shoot.
At 7:33 in the morning, I’m already annoying myself.
This morning (at four fricking 30) on the way to the Denver International Airport Nicole and I were chuckling at some friends’ past misfortunes.
One had once missed a flight by mixing up 12 a.m. and 12 p.m.; another almost went to the airport two evenings in a row by confusing 12 a.m. on Wednesday with 12 a.m. on Thursday.
Both are easily made mistakes a.m. and p.m., noon and midnight. I’ve gotten them confused on other occasions, though none so catastrophic as to miss a flight.
Nicole and I got to the airport together at 5:15 but were taking different flights, so we parted ways and I went over to American Airlines to check in and print my boarding pass.
Departure: 6:10 a.m.
Boarding time: 5:40 a.m.
What?! Now it was 5:22 a.m.
Turns out I’d confused 6 a.m. with 7 a.m., which seems like it would far more difficult to do than to mix up 12 a.m. and 12 p.m.
Guess that’s what I get for rolling my eyes at others’ debacles. Damn karma.
Good news. It appears that my roommate’s cat actually does serve a purpose.
Despite the fact that it was laying in the exact same position on the couch both when I left this morning at 8:45 and when I returned at 3 p.m., it is now running around the house lunging and diving for a fly that is buzzing at least four feet higher than her maximum jumping capability.
Needless to say that purpose isn’t killing bugs. It’s just my personal amusement.
So picture this.
You’re out on your morning run. It’s early for a Saturday, about 7:30.
You’ve got another 30 minutes to go in the jog to get in your full hour, but you’re feeling fine, so there’s no worries, not too much huffing and puffing.
But then you see it. A sign. And big bold letters: FREE STUFF.
And it’s not bad stuff either.
So do you run by, hoping that if you dash back home, which lies a considerable distance away, that the schwag will still be there when you get back with your car?
Do you run by, lamenting to yourself, but admitting you probably didn’t need any of it anyways?
Or do you snag the best couple of things, a book and a four-foot-long photo board, and run back home, awkwardly, and wondering all the while if a cop is going to pull over and chastise you for robbing the Salvation Army?
My thoughts: Damn, it’s hard to pass up free.