I should have known it was going to be an odd weekend, since it appeared I woke up on Mars Friday morning.

Art Child presented her too familiar puddle on the couch interpretation–bonus of a low grade fever– so I kept her home from school and we spent the day engaged in a marathon viewing of the tv series, Once Upon a Time.

Saturday was her second to last art class for the year and the fever was gone, so she went.  I took Little Incredibly Dumb Dog for a walk, and ran into a friend I haven’t seen all winter.  She asked me if I would like to go with her on a yoga retreat, she knows somewhere reasonably priced.  After posting about never doing anything remotely like that just last week, I was intrigued.  Then she mentioned staying in dorms, something like six women to a room.  I promptly remembered why I don’t do things like that.

I decided to hit the Goodwill up the street from the art class.  It’s the nicest one in Manhattan, and the last time I went in I scored two great dresses.  Woot, covered for Man Child’s graduation!  Yes, it’s a two day event, I needed two outfits.  When I showed them to Fatigue, he told me I was channeling Alice Kramden.  Works for me. Except for shoes, because mine are all either snow boots, flip-flops or high heels.  Flip-flops don’t seem appropriate for the occasion, and I’m not stable enough for high heels yet, so I thought I’d check for shoes.  Saw what could have been a great pair, but then I realized one of them had a thick streak of what looked like black permanent marker down the side of one.  Red shoes + black marker = no.

Then I saw a very cool skirt.  High waisted, cream linen with black appliqués. I couldn’t decide if it was a score-cool or just weird-cool, and it was $20, so I left it on the rack.  Waited for Art Child to get out of class, I chatted with a couple of the moms who are seriously skilled thrift shoppers, and they offered to go back to the store with me to give an opinion.  Me and my big mouth. It was still there, they liked it and encouraged me to try it on.  It wasn’t a skirt.  It was a strapless dress.  I don’t do strapless. A very short strapless dress. I also don’t do very short unless paired with leggings or thick tights.

No worries, the truth is I’m bored with shopping inside of fifteen minutes, and the girl needed to rest. Art Child and I went home.  I went to put my mug in the sink and I don’t know what the fuck happened, but a glass that had been sitting in there exploded. Really exploded.  Not only was the sink filled with broken glass, but shards flew across the kitchen floor into the hallway to the left, the dining area to the right, and one embedded itself in my wrist.  I had to throw away my sponges, it took me forever to clean up, and the girl was convinced my arm was going to fall off if she didn’t apply a bandaid on it immediately. Bloooooood!!!  Sigh. Seriously, it was maybe two drops, no big deal.

Last week three of the four turbo snails in my reef dropped dead.  In my experience, these snails never live long, but I haven’t had three die at once.  The blenny, however, is thrilled, since he’s made a new home inside the empty shell of one.

 

Thank you, oh mighty snail, for leaving me this beautiful new house, and thank you, evil bristle worms, for eating his remains so it would be nice and clean. 

I think these are all signs that this year should be over.  It should be beach time, don’t you think?