Friday the 13th Follies

Well, it's Friday in Roadchick's world - probably your world too, unless you are over the International Date Line and then Roadchick does not know what day it is for you. She has enough trouble keeping track of her own days.

It was one of those mornings at Chez Roadtrip - waking up in the dark (ugh!) and wondering why it's not Saturday or Sunday thereby allowing one to turn back over and go back to sleep. Of course, the hefty dose of Nyquil last night did not help matters much at all. Apparently, the 'chick has caught a change-of-weather cold. Misery to all. And there will be misery to all because Roadchick is not much on suffering in silence or alone. No, not really. Actually what the 'chick really, really wants is to go home, put on her 'jammies, and crawl into bed to sleep for about 12 hours. That would truly be heaven.

Michael at Cardiac Fantasies was conducting a dream experiment in which he gave an idea to think about before bed with the purpose being to actually dream of the scenario. (Wow, that was a messed up sentence, but, please figure it out or keep moving - there is no editing for clarity today.) Anyway, the 'chick was playing along and actually remember to prompt herself for the dream but apparently Nyquil voids all bets. The 'chick did have a dream but it involved 1/4 inch thick contact lenses that were scaring her because she didn't know how she was supposed to put them in without them hurting. This had absolutely NOTHING to do with what she was meant to dream about which included secluded woods and spooky moons and things like that. Just creepy corrective lenses. It is entirely possible that the reason she had contacts on the brain was due to the episode of CSI: Las Vegas last night and Halloween contacts. Who knows?

Laundry was a topic of conversation around the coffee pot this morning. Y'all know it's time to do laundry when you're down to either a) church clothes or b) club clothes. If you're coming to work in a low-cut top and granny panties, you'd better be getting to the Soap Opera Laundromat. Fast. No, the 'chick did NOT make an appearance in either of those items. Her laundry is relatively caught up. The granny panties remark did cause a discussion though . . . how does underwear get those little holes in it? This led one co-worker to comment, while looking down in the general direction of her underwear: Yeah - hey - what's going on down there that I don't know about??? This caused Roadchick to have hysterics, which made her eyes water (from the cold), and then caused all sorts of unpleasantness. But still - funny.

Another friend went to a songwriter's night on Wednesday and said that one of the artists did a song about "When you're down to your Christmas panties, it's time to do the wash." How true, how true. There was another song about "I got all worked up over nothing, then I married him." Roadchick is thinking that she (the singer/songwriter) might be just a tad bit bitter over the men in her life. Just saying, is all.

On that cheery note, the 'chick is going to get busy & hopefully get some work done so she can go home and burrow under the covers and swill Nyquil like a wino. Hope y'all have a great weekend!