Apparently, they expect me to do more than tell others how to do their job and re-apply lipgloss at the work joint.
I’m just now getting back on the travel wagon and will be somewhere within the Texas borders for 2 days every other week for a few months.
(Seriously. Room service. A remote control to myself. A big, fat bed I ain’t gotta make.)
So, if you follow me on Facebook (which you totally should) you’ll see more crap like this…there and here:
…because we all know I can’t keep my trap shut when this kind of asshat-ery happens.
I could possibly implode.
(So, thank you in advance for your help.)
And you’ll hear more about what happens at home when I’m not home because I’m off in some swanky (I pray) hotel room indulging in some sort of delicacy I’d never eat in front of anyone because I’m too old and should be more conscious of what goes down my Dorito chute.
(Like a sundae the size of my head.)
(You gotta admit, crap you shouldn’t eat always taste better and is way more enjoyable when no one is around to shake their head as you dip that chip so far into the queso that your fingers come up cheesy.)
(Or better yet…when no one is around wanting you to share. What nerve.)
Crap gets done at home when I’m gone. I don’t know why, but it does. And I ain’t about to ask questions. I guesss I start being missed or something. And all of a sudden pictures I couldn’t get hung before…are mysteriously perfectly in place.
And look at this:
And don’t you dare ask which ones “I” folded.
Don’t. You. Dare.
But hey, they’re folded and put up, right? Beggers can’t be choosers, I suppose.
At least that’s what momma says.
And then there was that time Keith kept saying, “Now, come on. You are NOT going to hang an old stained-glass window from a tree in the backyard. No way, no how.”
I took a little 2-day work vacation and voila!
(You can bet I’ve mentioned pink flamingos by the back porch.)
(Not real ones. They poop. Nobody wants poop on the porch.)
Most people travel to see the world. Experience other cultures. Live life.
Not me. Just give me a hot fudge sundae bigger than my head that has no calories and some pink flamingos by the back porch when I get home or even just have the dishes done…and I’M THERE!