It's been a long month or so with little or no diversion aside from the kind that gets me into trouble. Well, it was a clever Post-It note if I do say so myself. Work. Eat. Pretend to sleep. You probably know the busy-season drill.
So it's into the laundry room this morning, this Sunday morning, so I can avoid indecent exposure charges this coming week. I load my washer half asleep as it's only been maybe 30 minutes since I awoke from a dream about a work activity that involved using Skype. Now, that's not so strange, in and of itself. Dreams about work are common when the work is heavy. I used to dream of working in tobacco this time of summer many years ago. This morning, the dream, the one with Skype and about work, this dream involved Skype producing not just a video call, but a hologram call.
This'll teach me to watch a movie about megashark and crocosaurus before I go to bed.
So there I am, loading the washer. Clothes in. Soap in. Washer on. Let's noodle back to the coffee. Wait. What's that flash of pink across the room? Uh oh.
Lost and found. Pink draws. Thong, if memory serves. If you angle the light just so, you'll see that the label indicates S/M, small to medium. Some petite young thing is running around her, maybe his, without her draws. You'd think they'd catch such as that at the security check by the door.