I’m desperately trying to avoid Wednesday like the beagle avoids sobriety because it’s the day I decided to plague the earth with my presence.
There’s nothing for it. Wednesday is going to come whether I hide in bed with the covers over my head, so the heck with it. I’m blowing off Wednesday and finding out what kind of trouble I can get into. I’ll have the beagle with me, so it shouldn’t be hard.
Last time we hit the town, we ended up in the hoosgow wearing each others’ Vickie Secrets and smelling of bad gin. And for the longest time people made a wide berth around me whenever I went shopping for office supplies and kept calling me Lascivious Lynn.
I have no idea what that was about, but since I’m reaching my damn-near-mid-fifties, I’ll try for something more sedate.