Our room had a lot of mirrors.
Yesterday we got up and dressed and ate kolaches from downstairs before heading to the museum. We spent almost four hours there. I had no idea that The Two Fridas was so big, nearly six feet by six feet.
On the way home we stopped for lunch at Golden Chick because we’d never heard of it, and they turned out to have amazing yeast rolls, so we brought two dozen home with us. It was a good decision; they went over well at dinner.
You may have noticed that I didn’t post yesterday. You may not have noticed. It’s fine.
You may have noticed that my posts have not been up to snuff lately. I have, and I’m not happy with it.
I posted every day for over two years, but that time is over now. It’s been harder for me to make time to sit down and write a post with my new job and working twice as much as I’m used to working.
I tried using voice-to-text to write some posts on my phone, but my accent’s a little too thick for that, so I spent just as much time editing as I did writing/speaking the post in the first place, which kind of defeats the purpose.
I’m home early from work tonight, due to a lack of business and some schedule-swapping with my arch-nemesis, so I’m letting you know what’s going on around here.
I think a schedule would still be nice to have, even though I’ll post additional stuff whenever and wherever the urge strikes me. So sometimes I may still post every day for weeks at a time, and sometimes it will only be three times a week.
I’m still debating which three days: Monday-Wednesday-Friday? Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday? I’m leaning towards Monday-Wednesday-Friday. And I’d like for those posts to be a minimum of a thousand words.
But we’ll see.
I’m thinking of starting another blog too, which seems counterproductive, but I have things to say that don’t feel like they belong here, so there’s that. I’ll let you know.
Today I got a pink lace bomber jacket. It’s pretty sweet.
She opened the double doors and the light flowed in like honey, confused dust motes drifting on the air currents stirred up. She smiled, and the day grew even brighter.
“I think this will do nicely,” she said to the emptiness before her. The realtor behind her breathed a small sigh of relief.
She turned and shook the realtor’s hand. “You can give me the tour, but I’m pretty sure I don’t need it at all.”
The realtor beamed and led the way through the empty rooms and hallways, up and down the stairs, pausing at nearly every nook and cranny. By the time they were back at the front door, the deed was done. She was in love with the house, and nothing was going to stand in her way.
She moved in only a few weeks later and proceeded to decorate in a monochrome style, shades of blacks and whites and grays throughout the house, with a single splash of a single color in each room. A flower here, a chandelier there.
When it was done she hosted a party, but her guests didn’t stay long; none of them could stand the subsonic tones she played on the recently installed sound system. She didn’t care. She liked it, and that’s what really mattered, right?
But she soon grew lonely and tired of only her own company. Finally she figured out that it was the house pushing everyone away; it couldn’t possibly be her personality.
She locked up for the last time and moved to an apartment in the city, where she let her interior decorator have his way with the new place. She hated it, but her parties were always the talk of the town, so she dealt with it.
Kidding. It’s definitely a tumor.
I had my CT scan this morning to check on how my adrenal tumor’s doing. Follow up appointment with endocrinology is in three weeks.