I've been house sitting (surprise) for the Duke these past two weeks. They have a dog that (again, surprise) pees inside the house. It's really not even worth mentioning because this trend of incontinent dogs I watch has catapulted into the ridiculous. I mean, does EVERY dog pee inside the house and I just haven't noticed because I've never been a dog owner? When I lived with Rac and Emma at their family's home and we took care of Jane, their Boston Terrier, she never peed inside. And she was certainly not the brightest of God's creatures. Lovable and gaseous, but not bright.
This is all irrelevant because what I really want to say is that I have essentially been without a phone for two weeks and it's kind of been like Heaven for me. I get zero reception up at the Dukes. I am way beyond having no bars. It seems I can only call out if I'm calling 911. And since I can no longer talk on the phone in my car and most days I work so many hours (roughly about a squillion every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday) that days go by when I'm literally only in my car or at work or at the Dukes, I haven't called anyone in a very long time. And I'm fine with that. You know my anxiety about calling people.
But today -- oh, today -- I want to call everyone because you will never believe what I had to do at work. Never. It is just too crazy -- and, I feel, not exactly for mixed company, which means it is not for this blog. Trust me boys, you would be mortified. But gals, you will laugh and laugh and laugh because, Knights of Columbus!, this is a funny story. It tops ultrasounding that guys toe and the time I had to guess whether the black furry stuff on a woman's back was part of her sweater or a rogue patch of back hair. Please ask me the next time you see me (unless we're in church, I can't do it at church) to tell you what happened. I'm DYING to tell it.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself that I lucked into a job with so many great stories to tell. It's like a dream come true for me.