Last night before bed I Googled “Is it the pandemic or am I starting menopause?” Which yielded some pretty informative looking results, I have to say.
I’m generally a pretty well-behaved person. If you ask my mom, I pretty much always have been.
I got in trouble only once in my grade school years.
Late last night I woke up to an uninvited visitor. Like a sharp knock on a door, he announced his arrival with a sudden and surprising break into the quiet of my room.
Ben and I had experienced a terrible 2019. My young nephew was in the throes of chemotherapy, my mother-in-law was battling lymphoma, Ben had broken his arm, we had significant water damage in our house, our car had been involved in a hit-and-run, and Ben had lost his job and was unemployed.
I hate surprises.
If you know me, you absolutely know this to be true. I read the last page of a book first. I feel a deep sense of betrayal when a pregnant friend won’t find out the sex of her baby as soon as is humanly possible. I look on Amazon to see what Ben has bought me for my birthday. And I always, ALWAYS…
Last night I asked Ben to tell me I’m doing a good job. Just in general. At life. You know, a simple question. Except, that’s not really how I said it.
My kids have recently gotten into the game Among Us, a seemingly cute online game where a group of space people are dropped into a spaceship and one is secretly identified to sabotage the ship. Because they are actually an alien imposter.
Last night we paid $25 for a shockingly short virtual Santa visit with the kids. I say “shockingly short” because I clearly didn’t read the fine print (less shocking) and somehow expected Santa to stick around long enough for us all to feel like good friends at the end.
