It’s raining and hailing, because the world is ending. (Don’t believe me? On Wednesday, there was a blizzard. On Friday, it was warm enough to have dinner on the patio.) In response to all this, I’m staying in today. I baked cookies and ordered food and tidied up The World’s Teeniest Apartment. The laundry guy came and got my unmentionables, and informed me that he was nearly killed by a hailstone while having a smoke earlier.
“It’s like God’s trying to kill me,” he said. I would like to say, for the record, that my favorite part of getting my laundry picked up, aside from the fact that I don’t have to do it myself, is that the laundry guy is really cute. Also, he has a Scottish accent.
I giggled in a terribly grown-up fashion and demured. Oh no no no, I’m sure not. Tee hee hee.
(BTW, Anonymous Meanies: This is where you comment and tell me how dumb I am for even being attracted to men, and I’m supposed to be so smart and independent and what the hell and so on. You’re welcome. I live to serve.)