2003 Story Set
| Date: October 20, 2003 Every Time I think I would like to Get Married Again...... ... I just do the following: I toss the laundry on the floor and curl up with a hot book. For a day or two. (When I am working - I use the week-end for this.) (My son has learned to dress from the laundry pile. Saving folding and putting it away.) I recharge the vibrator. Or find the electric one. And check the lock on my door. I spend the afternoon in the spa naked and let it all hang out. (Warning my son of course.) (Who will promptly lock himself in his room.) (If he is not home, this is less risky.) (And not as much fun.) I rent a chick's flick and make a bag of popcorn just for me. And take over the remote control. And the big TV set. I go shopping. For underwear. Or shoes. I rearrange the photos of me clutching Fabio (and visa versa) on my bedroom wall. I grab a glass of wine and a book, and stay up ALL NIGHT reading. This is especially good if I have no important business meetings the next day. (I try to be responsible) I refuse to do dishes for three-four days, or until I run out of coffee spoons. I refuse to cook anything interesting until my son demands a visit to Togo's. I cook something I know I like and damn the torpedos. Especially a vat of tapioca or custard made with heavy cream and regular milk (yea Atkins) and sugar-free. Or suck on dark chocolate. My son eats none of these. I sit around eating strawberries (or raspberries or blueberries) warmed up with Supra and heavy cream. Where is the tufted cushion? I take the trash out once a week, whether it needs it or not. I stop grocery shopping until the milk curdles and there is nothing left in the house that I want to eat. I run to my son's room and look at the clothes, dirty socks, empty soda and water bottles, and other detrius scattered on the floor and I'm cured. I suck a little red wine and chocolate, and curl up with a hot book. Oh --- I said that. |
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