It's Wednesday, and I've lost an hour somewhere. I officially lost an hour on Saturday, but managed a two-fer this am.
I sprang forward, like a good little masochist, on Sunday morning. But I didn't wake up this am until 9:16 am. Gosh honestly, the clock said 9:16! But when I went to the kitchen to fix my coffee and croissant, the clock clearly stated 8:16. So I toddled back to t he bedroom, and there it was, 9:17.
I drank my coffee, shared my croissant with Boatsie-The-Wonder-Dog, and groped my way back to the bedroom. And there it was, plain as the age-spots on my face, 8:32 am.
Well, the Kidney Island vortex has raised its ugly head again. Clocks spin forward, spin back, and sometimes stop altogether, as in the case of the guy who's supposed to come over and give us a "quote" on refinishing the hardwood floors. NEVER let be said that wood floors are low-maintenance. This will cost dearly and my inner spinner will go kapluey.
Life is never dull when you live in an alternate universe. I'm getting my hair and nails done today. If you'd told me ten years ago that I'd be living the life of a high-maintenance bimbo on an island in Puget Sound, I wouldda laughed you into the clouds. But here I am, on Kidney Island, celebrating the fact that I've passed no more Whidbey stones in two weeks.
Aging has its perks. Just ask my husband. He's in the back yard, teaching the Wonder Dog the art of soccer.