Well, let me just say my intentions were reallllllly good.
John left yesterday morning and all day yesterday I worked...stripping the bed, doing laundry, picking up what had been left lying around. Basically keeping busy. I know the saying is "busy hands are happy hands" but that is not always the case with me. But better busy than mourning my love leaving, which is what I have done the last few times he left. Does me no good.
Today I decided to go to Taos, even though I hate the drive and it was trying to snow. Wal-Mart is the only non-hippie-touchy-feely-$1000 tee-shirt kind of store ( also that is where I pick up my prescription ). No problem. The snow turned to slush/rain on the way but the road was not slick so I was pretty happy with the drive ( also there was a driver slower than me in front of me so I didnt have to feel bad about not going fast enough for the Texans who invariably crawl up my cars rear end when I am first in line on the way...Yay!)
The problem occurred when I got home. Brilliant as I am, I knew John has swept out "his" side of the garage and it was spotless while mine was still caked in dried mud. Ok, no problem. I will pull into his side and after I unload the car, sweep my side out as well. However, ( there is always a comma after my "howevers" isnt there??) there is a double sink that is very easy to hit when pulling into that side. Cough. So I am watching, very very carefully, making sure I dont hit the freaking sink. Which I did not. Bigger cough. I hit the wall. Oh man.....
Not to worry though....i patched it up with my pink duct tape. I am pretty sure he will never notice.
(Banging head on keyboard)
Good thing he loves me : )
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