However did I do it for seven years? Twenty-five miles each way, five days a week. Two hundred fifty miles each week, just to get to the job I love. I love the train. I miss the train. I am driving in again today, because after work we will put the finishing touches on the mentoring workshop that takes place tomorrow. And when I am done with that, I am driving back to Fort Worth and borrowing a cowboy hat from Secondborn (assuming that it fits) so I can be all yee-haw crawdaddies! tomorrow.
I got the most important part of the laundry done last night. I’ll finish up tomorrow night, since my social calendar is [thankfully] free.
@Secondborn, no I did not go out in my jammies at 3:30am yesterday to confront somebody who may or may not have been stalking me or casing the joint. I figured that turning on every light in the house would announce that burglary in my half of the duplex would be unwise and might also tend to discourage it in the other half. And I did do a walk-around before leaving for the office. The only thing out of the ordinary was a big blue box at the far corner of the house that once upon a time contained a whole lot of beer cans. I didn’t think to stop and heft it, to see if the party was recent, and it was still a little too dark to check for tracks.
I picked up Trainman after work last night, and he told me about his dinner date on Tuesday, and I told him about lunch with my friend, and we stopped at the burger joint that my friend had recommended. There were cops sitting near the window. Bliss! And the burgers were good, too. We even remembered to get in the HOV lane on the drive home.
OK, time to go water my plants in Fairyland while the tub fills.
- Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!