Bizarre Quiz of the Day: Now this one is really odd. Thanks, Gie Gie.
What WotW Lady Are You? test by GieGie
Scary! That was the third time I took it. I got Tamy first, then Stevie. This time, I didn't hardly even read the questions, and there I was. That figures.
Writing Successes: Well, I finished a draft of the article today. I also went to chat yesterday, which is why I'm here.
Music Playing: Surf. Okay, it's "Lights Out" on KINK.
Teachers strike news? They voted to accept the contract. The strike is averted. This is good news for those of us with children, and I thank all the teachers who, in order to accept this, voted to be unemployed for 10 days. Good for you.
I'm not staying long. I'm as sick as a dog right now. Since I'm rarely sick, honestly, it's always really ugly when I get a cold. I'm shocked and amazed that the first thing I did today was finish the article. Guess I should be ill more often.
I did attend Sunday Brunch chat yesterday. Had a GREAT session and wrote 800 words. I think the first one of the lot really flowed right out of me and I enjoyed the heck out of it. Two and three went well, too, mind, but that first one was a home run. Please enjoy the offerings. I mean, it's not The Bachelor's Naked Bondage Pictures, or even the Bachlorette's Nude Wedding, but it'll do. ;)
Write about coming home at the end of the day. 10 min
He was wrapped in warmth the minute he walked in the door. The dining table in front of him was set and ready to receive the food he could smell cooking in the kitchen. The lights were dim and gave a red glow to the whole apartment.
Tom smiled.
The door to the kitchen swung open and his housekeeper came into view. She said nothing, just took his coat and briefcase and replaced them with a martini glass. She smiled and glided away with his belongings.
He moved into the living room and settled himself on the maize-colored couch, stretching a leg out and dropping it on the coffee table. He took a sip of the clear liquid, holding the toothpick-stabbed olive out of the way of his mouth.
Bliss, he thought. Hot and dry, like the desert; perfect.
“Dad!” his son yelled. A dark-haired missile launched itself toward him, and Tom quickly set the martini on the coffee table and extended his arms to receive the hug that was hurtling toward him.
“I missed you today, Dad,” Eddie said. He smelled of butterscotch cookies and crayons.
“I missed you, son,” Tom said, inhaling the fragrance deeply. “Did you finish your homework?”
“Hours ago. I’ve been working on a secret project,” his child’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper on the last two words.
Tom smiled and looked into the earnest brown eyes. “What kind of project?”
“Dad! It’s a SECRET. That means I can’t tell, not even you.”
“I see. Well,” he pushed himself up off the couch. “I can always just go see for myself,” he moved toward Eddie’s bedroom.
“Dinner is served,” the housekeeper called.
Eddie looked at his father, who looked down and smiled. “Saved by the dinner!” they said in unison.
Use the phrase, “Not quite sure what the old one was”. 10 min
“Can you explain that again? I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what the old one WAS,” she said into the phone again.
She could hear the woman on the other end sigh in exasperation. “I told you TWICE.”
“Well, I’m sorry ma’am,” she kept her voice neutral and polite. “But I haven’t heard of that before. I’ve worked here quite a long time, I assure you.”
“Look, it’s simple. It was a white crib with World War One airplanes on it. There was a matching bedspread and sheets, and a bumper. It was about five years ago. It was called the ‘Dreams In Flight’ collection.”
“Ma’am? I have no idea what that would look like. We don’t have any white cribs in our current catalog and we don’t keep a supply of ancient items such as you describe. Our inventory contains only what’s in the catalog,” she picked at her fingernails with her file. She should see a manicurist.
“Is there someone else I could speak to?” the caller asked through gritted teeth.
Ah, finally, Laurie thought. The way out. “Certainly, ma’am. Hold, please,” and sent the woman back into the calling queue. She’d be picked up by some other representative, not by anyone ‘higher up’ of course, but there was no way the caller would know that.
“I’m going on break!” she announced, removing her phone from the calling queue before the light could flash at her again.
Start with, “You’re hurting me.” 10 min
“You’re hurting me!” he cried. He sat on the steps of his own front porch, head in his hands, weeping around his words. “How can you do this?”
Laurie sighed. It was all too easy. “Look, Tom. I just don’t think of you that way, okay? I mean, you’re a nice guy and all, but I just don’t think it will work out.”
He wailed and sniffled into his hands.
This was much easier than she had figured it would be. He was acting so womanly, breaking up was more than simple, it was a relief. After today, she’d never have to see his whining, sniveling face again.
“But you didn’t give us a chance!” he looked up. His blue eyes were dark pools in the poor light of his porch. Wet, his face seemed to glow at her. “Just one more date, please! I swear that I can fix whatever is wrong!”
I doubt you’ll grow a pair overnight, she thought sarcastically. “I’m sorry, Tom, but no. I think three dates was more than enough. You just aren’t my type of guy.” That was the understatement of the century!
“But I love you!” he cried.
She had figured as much. He was a psycho. Another mental tic mark went into his “con’s” column. Not that she had needed another. “Tom, you don’t love me. You just want me. You barely know me.”
He came toward her, a pleading half-smile jerking into place. “I love you!” he said again. “There’s no one else for me but you! You’re my soul-mate!”
She backed away from his grasping hands and the terrible burn in his eyes. “No, Tom, I’m not. Trust me. I’m . . . ” she tried to think of anything that would put him off enough. “Sick! Dying, almost!”
“I’ll stand by you,” he cooed, advancing. She stumbled onto the sidewalk, edging toward the Bronco.
See, all good fun. I'll see you when I'm less ill.
