I wondered how I could be so sad after such a short time - after knowing all along that Sunday would be fleeting.
When I did cat-cow, it had no rhythm, no coordination.
I wondered if it had been a bad idea to do announcements first. Off I go to be more productive. Until Thursday, when one of the women involved with the indoor park casually mentioned her "cocoa ball" cookies. "I wouldn't feel guilty when I was doing crafts! It was that the WIN network had been sold to AOL. Guess which one prompted more response, and, more criticism? I could remember standing on one leg, crane-like, in the kitchen, rolling those balls of buttery, chocolatey goodness into their powdered-sugar coating.
It was like a cute boyfriend, leaving for the rich girl from the west side.
I've never been so crushed over the fate of a building.
It wasn't a very effective boycott - it's not like I can take my business to some other tanning salon. And finally, it was our turn.
They're business expenses, and I'm self-employed. Do I have a larger responsibility to my family, or to the world?
I suppose I'll never quite find it, but I'll sure keep writing about it until all hours of the night.
I now have a quilt spread over the floor for Truman to lie on and Everett to jump over him, giving me heart attacks several times each quarter-hour.
I've never been so crushed over the fate of a building. We got to the store, he did everything I asked, politely, sweetly. So will I work to stop anyway, or just accept my fate as the mom of potty-mouthed boys?
And, "I want them to FIX Sunday. I kept running, marking time on my watch.