This morning, I sat down with my cream of wheat and fresh hot tea ready to enjoy what is about to become a rare ritual: Reading the entertainment section of the newspaper over a leisurely breakfast.
It’s like my reward for getting all the Denizens to school with a hot breakfast in their tummies, lunches in their backpacks, and fully clothed. Which is not as easy or as automatic as you might think – one of my girls managed to go to kindergarten one day wearing a skirt and no underwear, which I found out when her teacher called in a state of near panic to tell me all about it.
It was her first and last year teaching kindergarten.
I think we broke her.
ANYWAY. Here’s my horoscope for today. And I swear I am not making this up:
A twist in the course of recent events leaves you scrambling to change your strategy. Thankfully, you are fleet of foot, quick of wit and good with computers, so you’ll be fine. Nimble is a good word for you.
Now, is it just me…or is that like… ‘the person who does the horoscope column at The Record not only reads my blog, but is enough of a stalker to know that I am an Aquarius’ levels of eerily accurate?!
What’s funny (in a stomach-roiling, rollercoaster-ride kind of way) is, I really am scrambling. I wasn’t technically looking for work, so I didn’t have any kind of plan for when I got a job.
What’s also funny is that this always seems to happen to me. The minute I say, “Fine. Whatever. You know what? Those grapes? They’re probably sour anyway. I don’t want them after all!”, fifty pounds of the things will spontaneously drop right off the vine onto my head.
That’s how I got my husband. I swore off the entire male species after one horrific date too many (boy, could I ever pick’em, let-me-tell-you), then met Himself not six months later.
I swear off even thinking about getting a job, and this thing falls into my lap four months later.
Wait, did you hear that? Some kind of…deep, chortling laughter coming from the Universe…?
NASA, Cocoa Beach and points north
7 months ago