Who rolled my odometer back?

So. Much. Fun.

If I didn’t know better, I would suspect that I woke up c.2002 yesterday. The day did get off to a weird start: I went back to bed after breakfast, after setting the alarm for an hour ahead of my eye appointment, only to wake up ten minutes before I was supposed to be there. And I was at least 25 minutes away. I am now scheduled for during my staycation next month.

The funeral was great. I didn’t know my friend’s mother, but apparently she was quite a character. And she had 10 kids, and all of them were there, and it was possibly the most musical funeral I have ever attended, because she was passionate about music, and some of her kids and grandkids are exquisitely talented, vocally.

From there I went to the grocery store, came home long enough to stow the perishables and grab what I needed for the dance, including my cooler for a portion of the new guy’s newest culinary experiment (twelve bites of which I just enjoyed for my breakfast, and the rest of which will be doled out to myself for as long as I can make it last).

Drove to Brother Sushi’s and sat on his couch with my knitting while he put his DJ equipment into the truck. Then rode to Denton in air-conditioned comfort, the two of us chattering like magpies.

It has been a very long time since I danced that much. Mostly I was up, dancing with the sisters, but I did get to dance with all my favorite guys, and I did get to dance the last slow song with the new guy. And I am pretty sure that I am the only one of his petri dishes who got to take home a slice of his cheesecake.

I don’t know what time the dance ended. I don’t know what time it was when the guys got Brother Sushi’s truck reloaded. I don’t know what time it was when we hit the drive-through on our way home (but I suspect we were beating the living daylights out of the Sabbath). I do know that when I pulled out from in front of his house for the drive home, it was 1:24. I left with his firm instructions to text him when I got home.

I texted him at 2:00a.m. (Me, the woman who frequently leaves Knit Night at 8:30.) Drove home, blasting Gershwin as I have been doing since Tuesday night.

I wouldn’t want to do this on a regular basis; I did it way too often when I was in my 20’s, and it will take a day or two to recover. Right now I feel as if somebody had rolled me up in a blanket and beaten my knees, hips, and ankles with something fairly soft but still noticeable. Maybe the Jolly Green Giant’s nerf baseball bat, or a raft of feather pillows?

Worth it? Mm-hm, yeah, most definitely.

Very thankful for no additional church meetings today. That will take some getting used to. Since this is a fifth Sunday, when the priesthood and the Relief Society have a combined meeting (is it wrong that I think of it as There Goes The Neighborhood Sunday?), and there is no lesson material to study, I am going to take my knitting and finish Faith’s first sleeve and get the second one underway.

But first I need to drop the new guy a note and tell him that the current cheesecake incarnation was successful.