I left a 57 degree foggy place this morning for a 100 degree sunny place this afternoon. The outdoor plants were happy to see me, as were the fountain, the bird feeders, and the birds.
After I unloaded the car and got the mail, visited my sis, did a load of laundry, walked one dog and played ball with the other, I was ready to go to the bbq. But it was north of my town, and the freeway going north during rush hour is a nightmare unless you can get into the HOV lane. My usual passenger is in Greece with her daughter, and my married friend wore herself out playing golf in the heat.
Nobody else in the singles’ club lives this direction. I decided to skip the bbq and stay home. After all, tomorrow night is another event with live music. It is summer, and a person can’t do it all.
Or can they? I used to do it all, ten years ago. The first time I had ten days off from parenting, I went out for eight nights. I was exhausted but also happy to find my groove. That same groove kept me going for a decade, and now it’s slowing down. Dancing twice a week is enough for me. Once a week will even do in the winter time when live music starts at 9:00 and goes till midnight.
Now that I am skipping the 10:00 news and going to bed an hour earlier on account of my dogs getting me up at 6:15 when it gets light out, I don’t know the weather for the next day or the sports scores, but I’m also not stressing over the Washington D. C. politics or the latest tweets by you know who.
June is my birthday month, so I will hopefully get to see my friends for a day or two and celebrate. I have three friends with June birthdays, so we can all hang together. The Medicare mail is already coming, a year early.
I’ll have to find the Beatles album with my song on it. I think it’s on Sgt. Pepper’s Hearts Club Band. Actually I Googled it to find out which one. You know it. “When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now. . .”
I’m back home and distracted with all the stuff I need to do. It’s hard to focus on reading a book for fun. It’s not easy to let everything go while I work on a project.
That’s why I go to where it’s 57 degrees. I get time to work on stuff and not be distracted by household chores and Facebook. It’s fun to see where everyone is traveling to, but otherwise, Facebook is a time suck.
I got some mailbox money today. That’s what Ellen Degeneres calls it. It’s money for work you’ve already done, the royalties from books you wrote. I don’t know which day it came, but I have a locking mailbox so that I don’t need to worry. Between Sis’s long term health care policy checks and my mailbox money, a lot of revenue comes to us in the mail
Sorry this blog post was kind of dumb. I need someone to tell me his/her bad date story. How about you?