Tonight presents nothing particularly mind-blowing to write about, so my preemptive apologies to those seeking wit and humor. But it's been a weird couple of days. And the best I can say is that the weirdness isn't keeping me up at night. Something is, but it's not the weirdness. More on that later.
Yesterday, after more time spent talking about roses & chocolate than I ever thought I'd experience (and no, they were not romantic love tokens given to me by a devoted beau - I wish!), I left work late and drove halfway to my old apartment before I realized I don't live there anymore. Weird. And today I surrendered the keys. After the drama associated with trying to break my lease, simply turning in the keys was hugely anticlimactic.
In the working world, all I can say is this: Chip Davis, wherever you are, thanks for that bargaining and negotiating class.
Miracle of miracles, it was cool enough today to go for a walk after dinner. Or more like a suburban wildlife safari. I had encounters with a chihuahua, an orange kitty, a bunny rabbit and multiple birds. There was (were?) more fauna than humans.
The Lawnmower Saga continues - our heroine's plans to mow tonight (and use the WD-40 purchased so the next door neighbor would not have to swoop in to the rescue ) were thwarted by rain. You know, the sum total of life skills that we are NOT taught in school is staggering. Example - what is the rule for mowing wet grass? When is it dry enough?
Did I mention that I no longer reside in an apartment? And, despite my inability to get a lawn mowing routine going, how frickin' cool I find that?
Spectacular rainbow on the way home from work today. It made me instantly 1000% times more likely to crash my car as I twisted and craned to see it. I wish we could all push a magic "stop life" button and just sit and look at stuff like that when it happens.
For some reason, this morning I was remembering my first few days in grad school, where I first got a taste of the confidence that comes with knowing you are exactly where you're supposed to be. I miss that feeling. Will have to ponder how to get it back.
Well, my plans for an early bedtime (and an early waking, but we all know how likely that is to happen) have gone awry. Here's hoping the oh-so-irritating peeper outside my bedroom window has decided to bed down for the evening. Otherwise, I might have to get violent. Against a tiny bug. In the middle of the night. With a big stick and a...oh forget it. A pillow over the head will have to do. Good night, all.