It’s not unusual for me to receive a couple of requests each week for speaking engagements or to perform stand-up for charitable events.
I'm Just Saying
I’m pretty sure I don’t owe any of them money, but evidently, I’ve got dead relatives hanging out all around my house.
So...did you feel the Edgefield, earthquake last week?
And the subsequent aftershocks?
And the huge thunderstorms that just rolled through?
Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”
We’ve pretty much all had this experience: You have a disagreeable encounter with someone who raises your hackles, and frustrated with your own lack of eloquence to explain your point, you turn on
I’ve never been more grateful to have been tucked up in my own bed (despite becoming rapidly untucked every 15 minutes owing to the norovirus) this past snow day throughout the Carolinas.
I had one of those moments last week where a conservative, suburban mom popped right out of my mouth.
It was astonishing. And most disconcerting.
It was during our Saturday night tradition of watching our favorite recorded “Brit-coms” with a generous gin and tonic each that my phone rang and I made the motion to answer it.
Never before in all my born days have I been more grateful to be a middle-aged broad than this past week.
It was only a few summers (three?) ago that I ruined Paul’s well-deserved afternoon off by hauling him from the couch and requesting both his emotional and physical support in a spot of goose wrang