MURPHY'S LAW

You know how things never work out quite how you thought they would?

Case in point: Former Sweetheart came over last night to drop off a couple of things I missed. I knew he was coming, of course, and as is my bent of mind I spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about The Meeting. Telling myself I had to look totally hot, hair perfect... the whole thing.

So I get home from work last night, have to get the rest of the yard raked, the leaves picked up, dirt, rocks, wind, etc. So I'm tired out from all that, I'm just getting comfy in my droopy old yoga pants and scuzzy sweatshirt, painting my toenails--and he shows up.

Yes, I resembled Bozo the clown more than a Hot Babe. It figures.

And then my brain shut down. The perfect opportunity to get a dig in, and I couldn't think of anything clever and cutting to say. I looked everywhere but at him, left the room altogether when he talked to Son about a snowboard, then cried like a baby when he left.

So much for best-laid plans and all that. But Son hugged me, so that pretty much wiped out all the bad stuff.

(Yes, I'm better this morning.)

Have a lovely weekend, all!