It’s a random Thursday morning, and I’m inundated with awful, mundane errands and chores. You know the kind no one thanks you for? Like buying toilet paper. NO ONE has EVER thanked me for toilet paper. 🙂 Also, how I become the designated ‘toilet paper fairy‘, who magically replenishes TP at our house, I don’t know.. Anyway, it’s days like these you’ll find me home in my PJs at 2 pm, on my laptop, working, signing my kids up for this, or taking care of something the bank fudged up. I try and find joy in days like these, and these are my rules:
- Chocolate and/ or peanut butter is acceptable breakfast.
- I WILL do something unacceptable! Something inappropriate. Something ‘normal’ people frown upon, or wouldn’t consider (not for lack of wanting to, but more of fear of being shamed by others)… Like having a chilled beer and or a glass of Rose´wine or a smoke in my back yard. I also find it irresistible to send pictures of such scenarios to friends suffering in the corporate world, working for the Man. For instance, I might send a pic of my laptop and Dewey beer in my beautiful sunny backyard. It always gets a reaction. ALWAYS.
- I WILL NOT change out of my most comfy pajamas. This one kinda ties into the 2nd rule, but it’s imp. enough to earn its own category, coz I looove my jammies.
On this fateful day, after a LOOOOONG back to school week with my 2 little monkeys, I was having one such ‘mental’ day. I was looking forward to my 1 pm ‘me time’, and I realized I’m having lunch with a friend. In order to keep with traditions, I decide to go ahead and check boxes on my “rules” list at 11:30 am. PJs – check. Nutella for bfast – check. Beer and a cig – check (yes, at 11:30 am; whatever, don’t judge me :-P).
I’m thoroughly enjoying the gorgeous sun, while being serenaded by Pharrell via my very smart phone. LOL. I start to hear “excuse me”, and I think to myself “these lyrics are not in this song”. I turn off my music, look up, and there’s an ATT technician is IN my backyard, 5 feet away from me, (and by this point) yelling “excuse me”. We make eye contact, and he says “can I access your backyard to check fiber-optics on ATT’s pole?”. I seriously had to recreate this sentence in my mind because of all the alarm bells going off in my head.
- You’re already in my backyard.
- Fuck! I’m in my skimpy PJs.
- Double Fuck with chocolate sauce; I’m drinking and smoking (I’m quite ashamed of this for some reason!! Perhaps because it’s pre-noon??).
And then .. the horror: what should I hide – fold my arms to cover up my ‘little too sexy’ PJ top, my beer, or my cig.? All I wanted to do was scream, “NO, you may not, sir. Showing up in someone’s backyard unannounced is completely unacceptable” (and maybe include some choice words). Instead, I whisper a soft “sure” in response, and dash indoors. Very. Anticlimactic. The bastard.
To my readers: I wish I had the presence to have a witty comeback (maybe if I had been less shocked..?). Feel free to leave some in the comments section.
September 1, 2016