I completely forgot to wear the black T-shirt with pink rhinestones last night. This may be just as well. As I drove past signs saying “Beware of the dog,” “KEEP OUT,” and “Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted,” I might have felt more vulnerable in rhinestones.
The site of last night’s party had a passel of dogs and cats for a welcoming committee, and a small fleet of 18-wheelers in the yard. In spunky girl heroine books, the heroine arrives at these places in her rhinestone T-shirt and is beset by all sorts of problems, generally including some handsome but irritating guy whom she will marry in the end.
Fortunately, I was not in rhinestones, am already married, and haven’t been a spunky girl for some time now. Everything went swimmingly, and I got past the stab of panic that hit me as I was about to drive home on unfamiliar roads alone in the dark, and got home just fine. (See the “agoraphobia” tag if you you need clarification of that sentence.)
Yesterday was the eye doctor, the book club, and the show. Today is the store and a concert. Tomorrow is a fair booth. Sunday there’s church and I am also attending a concert. Next weekend looks very much like this one on my calendar.
There was a time when having three events in one week was more than I could tolerate (see the tag if you need clarification), and now I’m fine with two and three events a day. “You’re going to be tired,” said #2 son last night as he helped me lug my gear in from the car.
That may be so, but so far it’s okay.