I’ve pretty much decided that I’m a natural born dreamer. I’m want to buy one of these old campers and deck it out with my style. I’d hit the road with my dogs and just drive where ever the wind took me.
I would see mountains and canyons. I would see trees so big I could live in them. And coasts that collided with boulders over stormy cliffs.
Really, I think I am talking myself more and more into this.
Meanwhile, over in reality, while shopping the other night for a new blouse, the young lady behind the counter informed me that she couldn’t purchase the shirt I was about to buy because her mom had.
Ouch. I’m going to go cry me and my mom shirt into a corner now. But you know what, since I’m
so not old enough to be her mom, I can at least order a few extra shots of tequila to go with this cocktail to ease that blow to my moral.
On a positive note, she also told me there was no way I could look pregnant in those shirts that make everyone look pregnant no matter how slamming your body is. So, she gets brownie points for that.