First of all, I'm wearing my sexy boxers. It's not even a special occasion.
I've spent the last hour trying to get Annie started on a blog. She's jealous of the overnight popularity of mine. We spent the whole time trying to come up with a name for hers, which led to me damn near falling asleep before getting to write this for you. (Name was never decided and she's already given up.)
Yesterday, after assembling a MULLIG from IKEA to put in Annie's room for some of my stuff, we packed and drove up to Tahoe. Along the way, Annie got off at the wrong exit for In-n-Out. She furiously defended that a Subway had taken the spot of a previous In-n-Out, before getting off at the next exit to find the In-n-Out she had originally been in search of. If a guy does that, he's a neanderthal that doesn't ask for directions. A girl does it and it's a simple mistake. "They have the same curved brick things at the turnaround!"
As of today, I've applied to 15 jobs on Craigslist. No return emails. I'm not ready to move to monster.com or anything for serious jobs yet. They continue to be wine or tutoring related. Random real jobs and food things have been thrown in, too. Annie's dad asked me what my plan was at Happy Hour this evening. I've got nothing... "Mooch off your daughter?"
Those of you following might think I've temporarily lost my mind. Sometimes I wonder the same thing. The first few days of this new journey certainly haven't made me more sane. Today, my body decided to follow my brain off a cliff. Annie took off to downhill ski all day, and left me home alone. I had a pounding headache and decided to shovel the driveway to get some much needed physical activity. When I was hungry enough I came back inside and made myself some fried turkey sandwiches. I was in my room deciding between a shower and returning to my shoveling duties when it happened.
I shit my pants. Not a lot; just a dribble. Nonetheless, I shit my pants. There's debate rather or not the turkey was bad, or I may have been super dehydrated, but the end result doesn't change the fact that, though I just wanted to relieve a little pressure in my crampy stomach, I shit my pants. Seriously. Annie, you check the washer for my wet shorts (I immediately washed them in the sink).
You can only laugh if you've never, ever in your life had it happen to you.