What’s For Breakfast?

Sometimes life outpaces blog writing.  It doesn’t matter how many drafts I have started.  It doesn’t matter how many ideas are in my head.  It doesn’t matter whether anything is close to ready for the next day.  Sometimes, I just don’t have it in me to write the next post.

I strive to publish a post every day.  Sometimes I wonder if this is too much, but usually the ideas are flowing.  I can often churn out all five for the week on the preceeding weekend.  Unless the weekend is too busy.  But even then,  I can usually find an hour each day to settle down at the computer and write whatever story I’ve been composing in my head.

This past weekend, though, was booked solid.  The laundry didn’t even get folded until Monday night.  Monday night, I got a post ready.  Tuesday morning, the bathroom flooded and we suspected the drain in the master shower.  We expected to spend the weekend ripping out our shower to get to it.  Tuesday evening, I spent my time volunteering at the high school.  Way too tired by the time I got home.

Wednesday morning, the bathroom flooded again – this time when the other shower was used.  And when the toilet was flushed.  Good news: we didn’t have to rip out our shower.  Bad news: we had no shower or toilet facilities.  I spent the late evening (after we returned home from church events)  holding the flashlight as my husband finished his repair job on the septic line.  Way too tired to flesh out a blog post.

Thursday morning, I took it easy on the treadmill, having pulled a muscle in one leg.  I had finished all the episodes of BBC’s Sherlock – that’s another yet-to-be-written post.  Easily the best show ever.  Anyway, the husband recommended Orange is the New Black.  He made it clear that it wouldn’t hold a candle to Sherlock, but admitted that by my standards, nothing would.  I might still enjoy it.  Well, I watched it while walking slowly and I did enjoy it.  I think.

Anyway, later that morning, I found myself laying on the floor with my toes hooked under the couch.  I was preparing to do daily sit-ups with my husband.  And I was whining.  I had the same headache that had prevented treadmill activity the morning before.  The pulled muscle in my left leg hurt.  I had slept hard so my neck was stiff and painful.  The inside of my left knee hurt.  And as I lay there, my right butt cheek began to cramp.  I was a pitiful mess.

{{WARNING: Minor Orange is the New Black first episode spoiler}}

After the sit-ups, he rolled over to give me a hug.  A kind of mockingly sympathetic hug.  “Oh, well,” I said. “I guess it could be worse.  At least no one gave me a used tampon in my breakfast.”  I smiled, expecting him to catch the reference to a disturbing scene in the show he had told me to watch.

He pulled away and looked genuinely confused.  I smiled sweetly at him.

“Am I supposed to know what you are talking about?” he asked.

“Well, I would hope so.  You recommended it to me.”

He pulled even farther away.  “I did?”

“Yes.  You said you liked it and you thought I should try it.”

I’m usually the clueless one so I was finding this very satisfying.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

With a sigh, I said flatly, “Orange is the New Black.”

“Oh!  You watched it?  Did you like it?”

“I suppose.  I think so.”

“You suppose you think so?”

“No, I meant:  I suppose.  Period.  I think so.”

“Ok, I think we’ve discussed periods enough this morning.”

Ba-dum-dum.  Ching!  And there you go folks, I know you all wish you lived with us so you could revel in this kind of humor all the time.  Lucky for you, I found enough time to get one last post in this week and share it with you.

You are welcome.

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