I have an over active imagination.
The other day, my husband phoned me out of the blue and was like "I'd really like to see you, lets do lunch," which was nice of him, if a little out of character. So on the way there, I began to get the sense that there was definately something hinky going on ("hinky"- I got that word from watching Cold Case, don't you just love it?). I thought, I bet I know what happened. He was at home this morning when the call came through from the agent. He knows something and wanted to tell me in person. So I was all excited to see him.
And then it turns out that he just wanted to see me.
End of story.
Anyways, sometimes I could curse this over active imagination of mine. It's what got me into this mess in the first place.
But it's a good mess.
A random observation from my visit with my husbands place of employment- a private golf course- mine was the only GMC Safari in the parking lot. So good news- I didn't have to search the parking lot too long or hard when I left. My van stuck out like a sore thumb among all the late model BMWs and sleek SUVs.
Of course, they don't ge the gas mileage that I do.
Okay, they probably do. But they probably don't have AM/FM radio AND a cassette deck.
So the dogs stomach problems seem to be settled down, at least temporarily. She's always had a bit of a weak stomach, that one. And I know that you're probably thinking that with all the puking she's been doing I should take her to the vet. But I did that once and it cost me a thousand some dollars in exploratory surgery, with which they were finally able to puzzle out a very precise scientific diagnosis "there was negative mojo in there and we let it loose."
I am not kidding. That's what they said. An MRI, exploratory surgery, XRays and a blood panel. And that's what they came up with. Mojo. Like, if I wanted to take her to some witch doctor/wicka/herbalist/whatever, I'm pretty sure I would have and it would have probably cost me a lot less.
So this time she'll just have to live with the negative mojo. Mamas going to Vegas so we can't afford vet bills right now.
Enough of that.
Geoff and I had the popcorn fight again last night. Every time I make popcorn I use the popcorn button on the microwave-- that's what it's there for, right? But according to Mr. Popcorn Expert, the popcorn button doesn't work and you need to set it for 2 minutes and 22 seconds precicely for the best result. I mean, okay, maybe, MAYBE, you might get like ten to twenty more kernels popped. But what's a few kernels?? I dump almost the entire bowl down the garbage the next day, anyways?? We have kernels to spare as it is. Apparently, that's not the point, he says. So what the hell is the point, then?? I mean we're talking about pressing one button as opposed to three! Do the math, it's way less time consuming. So finally we just agreed to disagree. I said "Look- I don't tell you how to make your popcorn, so don't try to tell me how to make mine."
I don't know. I guess we should sit down some time and have a frank discussion some time. Perhaps there are compromises we could make.
But I need to be going.
Have a nice day.