You're still here? Aren't you hungry by now? I mean, it's been 18 days since I left you here with little more than a roll of toilet paper, a half-eaten box of good n' plentys and a bottle of off-brand strawberry schnapps. Oh, I see- you've chewed off your own foot out of hunger- good thinking. Most people (amateurs) would start with a hand, but you're a clever one- always thinking, you are. You always wanted a wooden foot anyways, right?
I'm sorry to have wandered off like that. I took a left turn at the Piggly Wiggly and found myself hopelessly lost. Eighteen days later, here I am- sunburned, starving, barefoot and more familiar with the mating habits of raccoons than I really care to be.
How did I keep myself busy, you ask? Well, other than singing old Barry Manilow tunes and picking at debris under my toenails, I did the following:
- Celebrated 13 years of marital marriage with the Mr. - We had a lovely and lavish dinner here, and as you probably guessed, much of our conversation over dinner was about which pet we'd eat first if we had to. Sorry Bubs, with those "chicken leg" hind legs and "frog leg" front legs, it was no contest. Such romantics, we are.
- Put way more effort into my job than I'm used to. When did work become so much work?
- Ignored the internets, my cell phone, e-mails, actual mail, smoke signals, sirens and messages in bottles. It was uncomfortable and itchy to do so, but satisfying nonetheless.
- Cooked and cocktailed. A lot:
- And, um...not much else. It was gloriously boring.
Now, go make yourself useful and get me a sandwich- I'm hungry, dammit. Bring me a glass of wine and some clean underpants while you're at it. Now!
Happy September, my sunburned and flaky little frog legs. Happy September.