Blog The Thirteenth

Today is Friday the 13th.

I am not terribly superstitious, although I will knock on wood should the occasion call for it. But today, I think Friday the 13th has made me a believer.

No, I'm not typing with Stella's small fingers because of some magical switch-a-roo, swapping our bodies so we can learn a valuable lesson about walking a day in the other person's shoes.

But seriously, what a lesson that would be!

I mean, I'm starting to believe in the bad luck part of it.

This morning, I woke up tired. Exhausted. And a little bit cranky.

But two cups of coffee later, I felt pretty good.

It was early and I had stationed myself in the living room so Baby Evan could crawl all around me and stay happy. (You don't want to know what happens when I walk away from that kid. Think World War 3 meets the Apocalypse.....)

Anyways, in my better, happier state of mind, I thought to myself, "I should text Zach. The man I love. My soul mate. The father of my children. The bread-winner of this family. Gosh, I just love him. I should text him."

Ok, my thoughts aren't nearly that romantic early in the morning, even after two cups of coffee! But the sentiment was there.

So I grab my trusted iPhone. I gracefully touch the Text Message Application. The screen pops up and I type these words: "Good Morning Lover!!!"

How sweet right? I mean, I am a child of this Technological Age. Today's most romantic poems and love sonnets are sent Text Messages. Break-Ups. Fights. Marriage Proposals. Entire Relationships today take place via Text Messaging.

I'm not going to call him. I love him remember? I want him to continue to love me. Calling him early in the morning with a left over morning voice reminiscent of a Stage Four Lung Cancer Patient is not the way to keep the spark in our marriage, ok.

Anyways, the text goes out. I put my phone down. I continue to play with Evan and Scarlett(Scarlett at that moment was being very loving to Evan. Too loving. Some life-saving measures had to be taken.)

And then I get an Incoming Text.

It reads, "Good Morning. How are you doing?"

It wasn't from Zach.

It was from Todd. Salad Master Todd. Todd who is 41, married and has four children. Oh and did I mention, my new boss.

At first, I'm like. Huh. That's nice. He must have a question for me about tonight, since I'm having another Salad Master Party.

And then my eyes flicker up, to a little green text box that had just recently been sent from me. To him. The very text I thought had been sent out to my husband. My actual lover.

OH NO. Todd had totally been the recipient of my morning good will and instead of the casual-acquaintance-like-distance I choose to keep with him, I had been way. Way. WAAAAYYYYYY to informal!

Needless to say I was mortified!

My fingers have never moved quicker, flying over the keyboard, tapping in my apology and excuses and explanations as if my life depended on it!

His response was, "That's ok. It's too funny."

Um, it is NOT funny. It's humiliating. And embarrassing. And I will never be able to look you in the eye again! Please don't tell your wife that I am hitting on you!


And I have to see him tonight. Six PM rolls around and I'm going to have to greet him at the door, stand by his side and do my best not to vomit from embarrassment.

So Friday the 13th maybe I do believe in your bad luck. Geesh.

On a totally unrelated subject.... I am pissed at another government law. I know, surprise. surprise. But this one might actually come as a shocker.

A federal law was just passed, you've probably heard about it, that prohibits Tobacco Products to be sent via mail unless sent Express Mail with an of age signer on the other end. I understand that this protects children from getting cigarettes from Gramma and Grampa for their 10th birthday; but it also makes the mailing of Tobacco, including cigarettes from being sent abroad and to our troops.

I think that is awful.

They are fighting a war and they deserve to be able to smoke! They can't drink. They're in the middle of gunfire and bombs and insurgents and all that. I think they deserve a carton of Yankee Cigarettes.

I get it. Smoking is bad. I have two Uncles who have had lung cancer, one died. I understand how awful it is for you. That being said, I've also heard War is bad for you, as far as your chances of dying from it go. What gives the government the right to refuse the Soldiers' right to smoke just because he prefers his cigarettes from his Motherland, instead of the middle of the Iraqi Desert?

Plus. I've seen Band of Brothers and Saving Private Ryan and Pearl Harbor and Mash and every other war-type movie/sitcom out there. I know that soldiers are ALWAYS smoking. Plus, my dad and two of his brothers fought in Vietnam and my older brother Ron was in Desert Storm. Guess what, they all smoked. That's what they do. They smoke. I'm not saying they should. I'm not saying it's good for them. But if I was in a high pressure, stressful, life-threatening situation like that I would want to light up too.

It's awful. Not to mention, I think we've all seen the commercials for the patch. Do we really want our soldiers cutting back cold turkey while they're in the middle of knocking door to door in search of bombs? I don't.

They're doing enough as it is.

If the American People can't send them Cigarettes, then maybe the government should.

Seriously, we can provide health care because People are too lazy to go get a job that offers health care(Don't take that too seriously, I know it sounds really callous, and it's the most extreme situation, I'm just saying it for illustrations purpose.) but we can't offer just a little something that's going to make a Soldier's life just a tiny bit more simple while they're off protecting our Country's rights and freedoms?

It pisses me off.

Obviously. But that's enough about that.

I feel like I should have more to say about the Farm. Or the new baby. Or Salad Master. But I don't. Sorry.

Although tonight should be an interesting party. But more on that later.


Phasellus facilisis convallis metus, ut imperdiet augue auctor nec. Duis at velit id augue lobortis porta. Sed varius, enim accumsan aliquam tincidunt, tortor urna vulputate quam, eget finibus urna est in augue.

No comments:

Post a Comment