J's brother K is on his way, as I write this, to the Irish Parachute Club to jump out of a plane. This sort of endeavour I DO NOT HAVE THE METTLE FOR. There isn't an xtreme bone in my body. I feel like I'm walking on the wild side if I uncork a young Bordeaux or Montepulciano. Racy! I have this theory that once you have children, your brain irrevocably changes; executive, rational thought is dialled down, but the section concerned with risk analysis becomes hyper-acute. Shit, mine probably sounds like a 90s PC relentlessly grinding away, acquiring a perspective on my surroundings that can be summed up like this: NOTHING IS SAFE. EVER. WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREEEEE!
Because I am a meddlesome hag, I rang him and said helpful things like "Jesus Christ, K, what if your chute doesn't open?! This could be your last day on EARTH!" K is a good-natured fellow, and he just laughed. I'm so fucking helpful, aren't I? As if a man about to defy ALL HUMAN CONDITIONING and leap out of a goddamn plane, hasn't considered the potential pitfalls of this folly. Talk about being a buzz kill.
In the department of Bored Housewife News, I am embarrassed to admit how excited I am about heading out later on. It's been awhile since I had me some drank. Let me rephrase - it's been awhile since I had me some drank that doesn't involve timidly sipping wine on the sofa, perched like a gazelle listening out for the cry of my baby. If all goes the way it should tonight, I'll end up with a twisted ankle and a knifing hangover tomorrow.
I need to get this place all tidied up for R. Why do we all go through this ridiculous ruse? 90% of the time, if I can see the floor and there's a clean hand towel in the bathroom, I'll call it good. But if someone is coming over, this place looks like a model home, complete with artfully arranged spring blooms and the heady scent of Febreze hanging in the air. It's a DRAG. R could care less, and what's more, she knows me. Yet I'll be scrubbing and hovering away in preparation for her arrival later. Madness.
Let's hope Ireland wins today. Otherwise J will be all discombobulated and a straight up DRAG. I'll have to pass the buzz kill torch right on to him.
Peace out!
I do the exact same thing when people come over. In fact, I had a dream last night where my sister made a surprise visit which should have been a happy thing, yet I was so mad because I didn't have a chance to clean the house. Have fun and happy hangover!
ReplyDeleteBy the way, my name is Maureen-I can't think of a way to use my actual name for commenting.