Feeling rusty, and yesterday's blogging prompt didn't go over very well, so I'm returning to the trusty old word of the day ruse.
I arose before the dawn and cleaned both toilets. I've learned that if I want to be sure it gets done, I have to do it early in the morning or it slips by the wayside. This blogging thing, por ejemplo. If I'd start the day with it I'd probably get it done right more often. Because I've put it off till the end of the day I'm struggling with the words, my eyelids drooping.
So I cleaned both toilets and loaded the car to haul my wares to my friend Terry's craft sale, which she holds each year at her house a week or two before Christmas. It's 7:30 when I leave the house, coffee mug in hand, earrings and pendants swaying on their new stand in the backseat. As is my habit, I slowed the car as I approached the Goodwill dropoff, which doesn't open until 8:00. A few bags have been left against the doors of the storage unit. I decide to pull in, take a look.
My alter ego has left another load at the drop off.
At first I pretend to leave a bag of my own because an elderly dude is walking his three Maltese a mere 30 yards away. But as I peek in the first bag there at the dropoff door, my heart skips a beat. Beautiful Hot Kiss black wedges, size 9, barely worn. Beneath that, a green down vest from H&M, then a size M three-quarter sleeve purple T-shirt by Lucy. Elderly dude and his little dogs are approaching. I can barely supress my glee. All pretense abandoned, I simply load those four bags of clothes and two bags of books into the front seat of my car.
No need for Goodwill to replevy my booty; as I was pulling away from the Dropoff one of the bags shifted and bumped the hand holding my coffee cup, thus spilling half its contents across my lap. Punishment enough for my plunder, I suppose. Instant karma.
What does it say about me, that I don't feel all that bad?
I arose before the dawn and cleaned both toilets. I've learned that if I want to be sure it gets done, I have to do it early in the morning or it slips by the wayside. This blogging thing, por ejemplo. If I'd start the day with it I'd probably get it done right more often. Because I've put it off till the end of the day I'm struggling with the words, my eyelids drooping.
So I cleaned both toilets and loaded the car to haul my wares to my friend Terry's craft sale, which she holds each year at her house a week or two before Christmas. It's 7:30 when I leave the house, coffee mug in hand, earrings and pendants swaying on their new stand in the backseat. As is my habit, I slowed the car as I approached the Goodwill dropoff, which doesn't open until 8:00. A few bags have been left against the doors of the storage unit. I decide to pull in, take a look.
My alter ego has left another load at the drop off.
At first I pretend to leave a bag of my own because an elderly dude is walking his three Maltese a mere 30 yards away. But as I peek in the first bag there at the dropoff door, my heart skips a beat. Beautiful Hot Kiss black wedges, size 9, barely worn. Beneath that, a green down vest from H&M, then a size M three-quarter sleeve purple T-shirt by Lucy. Elderly dude and his little dogs are approaching. I can barely supress my glee. All pretense abandoned, I simply load those four bags of clothes and two bags of books into the front seat of my car.
No need for Goodwill to replevy my booty; as I was pulling away from the Dropoff one of the bags shifted and bumped the hand holding my coffee cup, thus spilling half its contents across my lap. Punishment enough for my plunder, I suppose. Instant karma.
What does it say about me, that I don't feel all that bad?
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