Happy…

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Reliving the ’70s

Yesterday I bought a pair of flared yoga pants.

I don’t do yoga.

It seems they only come in black, no paisley [sigh]
Next, I’m looking for a pair of powder blue corduroy jeans. I haven’t seen corduroy in a long time, so it should be coming back soon!

 

 

A change up…

Today I left the garage door closed, so the neighbors are thinking I’m dead.

On the weekends, I always open the garage door and begin my day before the sun has officially announced itself. In fact, I did that very thing at 6 A.M., while sipping my life sustaining brew, and gazing up into the heavens, before the birds and squirrels had ventured from their cozy nests, or the neighbors, for that matter. Justdog knew I was up, as he peered at me sleepily with one eye open, but not caring to rouse himself before I had my coffee. He’s a very smart dog.

My husband was up at 5 A.M, going over to the coast to fish with a friend, so the house was empty, well, except for Justdog and Justcat…. and JustI, of course.

The world is mine!

I finished my second cup of coffee, and took Justdog for his morning constitutional before daybreak. The air was crisp, and there was a gentle breeze, but winter is basically over in Florida, so I only had on two layers of clothes, and no winter jacket, for a change.

Walking the dog stirred my appetite, so when we got back I decided to forego another cup of coffee, and go inside to fix myself a hearty breakfast. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, so I closed the garage door, with just a crack for Justcat, so he could come and go, and sit in the sun on the front porch.

I had no sooner finished breakfast and started up the computer, when I heard my 75 year old neighbor’s garage door open. I know the squeak and squeal of each garage door on our cul de sac. From the window in my office, I spied the neighbor walking the lid to my trash bin over to my house. I loaned her the trash bin for her yard waste about a month ago, and she returned the bin, but forgot to return the lid. I see her frequently, but forget to bring the lid home. Obviously, not all that important.

My first thought was, what the heck is she doing up so early. She usually sleeps in ’til 9 or 10 A.M.

Then I realized I had left my garage door mostly down, and she was looking for signs of life. She thinks I’m on my death bed, or that I’ve croaked.

On our cul de sac, an open garage door is a sign of life or a welcome mat for the neighbors, and I have inadvertently sent a signal to all that something is awry. I may as well have hung a quarantine sign on the front door.

I’m thinking I better go open up the garage, to ease everyone’s minds. I’ll be hearing about my faux pas for the better part of next week, as each and every one will ask about my health, seeing as I did a change-up.

Me thinks I will feign a quick recovery.

 

 

 

House of Mirrors

Last week, I saw a woman walking down a long hallway were I work. She was holding a piece of paper, and glancing at it as if it was a map. I knew she was lost, and I was tempted to ask her how long she had been missing, and if she needed food and water, but she looked healthy enough.

The  building where I work would qualify as a very large house of mirrors. If a person is directionally challenged (E-W, N-S) there is very little hope. Each side, front and back, of the building is a mirror image of the other, including duplicate floors and identical room numbers. Each room number is preceded by the number of the floor, so 5F915, exists on the 5th floor of the north and south ends of the building.  The letter of the alphabet is just thrown in there to confuse everyone. The only letters used are F, G, H, and J. In the center of this megalithic structure there is a large atrium with lush plantings, open to the sky. The atrium serves no real purpose, except to remind those who become entrapped that the outside world still exists.

There are two 8-story parking garages, one on the East side, and one on the West. Needless to say, they are identical, and on each floor of each garage there is a set of sliding glass doors  which automatically open, welcoming the unsuspecting to the atrium. From a directional standpoint, the quote from Dante’s Inferno, Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, should be engraved over each portal.

Normally, the first decision point would be to go left or right. Even if there was an inscription on the wall stating, “The sun rises in the East, and sets in the West“, a visitor would wonder why someone would place that information at the entrance. The inscription should be a clue, but of no real help, since you could only see the sun at high noon as it passes over the atrium.

The lady was looking for new employee orientation, and she was only about 50 yards away from her destination. As I gave her directions, I mentioned that she was very close to her point of entry, just in case she wanted to escape. I just forgot to ask if she was parked in the East or West garage.

I have visions of her standing in one of the garages, in front of an empty parking space, while pushing the panic button on her key fob, trying to locate her vehicle. That’s not an uncommon occurrence either.

I think I failed to mention that I work for the Federal Government. I have high hopes of visiting the Pentagon one day. I love a challenge.