Lucky Me

I am a pathetic single girl. None of this fabulous, sex-in-the-city type lifestyle for me. I work, come home late, and consider myself to have gotten "lucky" when I manage to get in a load of laundry before bed. I got a phone call from a friend around 2 am a couple weeks ago...I didn't answer, but she left a message that went something like this:

(Insert drunk, partying voice here): "Laura...you have to come out here now. There's a guy here who wants to meet you. And he has a penis!!"

Needless to say, I didn't call her back. Call me old fashioned, but I usually require just a smidge more than that. Hell, I'd be thrilled for someone just to take me to dinner and drop me off afterwards. I've started to even reconsider past relationships (not Tim, mind you, but others). I need to work on meeting people and going out more, I think. I've gotten entirely too antisocial in my old age, and I'm sure my expectations are a bit out of order. It's time to loosen up, drop all preconceived notions and have some fun in honor of the days when "getting lucky" had more meaning.

I'll keep you posted.

A True Head Case

I have had to examine my head three times in the past week, and only had a successful result on one of the three occasions. The first examination took place last week at Old Time Pottery in Florissant, MO. I had to run in the store for something, and when I came back out, I couldn't find my car. I knew I had parked near the front (got lucky with rock-star parking), yet my car was nowhere to be found. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, I walked the perimeter of the entire HUGE parking lot. Three times. Then one of the store employees noticed me, and asked me if I was lost. She soon began looking for my car as well. When she had walked the entire perimeter of the parking lot two times and my little white corolla was still nowhere to be seen, we admitted that the car must have been stolen. The first call I made was to my mother. She said she'd be there right away. The second call was to 9-1-1 to report a stolen vehicle. About two minutes after 9-1-1 dispatched the officer, my mother called me. Did I remember that I was driving her red minivan and not my car? Shit. The third call I made was to 9-1-1 to cancel the stolen vehicle report.

The second examination took place this morning. I got up bright and early (7 am) to make some coffee, let the dogs out, and have a nice, leisurely breakfast before heading off to my brother's house to clean (I do this for extra $$). Just as I commenced my morning bathroom visit, I heard pounding on the door. What the heck?? So I hurriedly finished my business and rushed to the door. It was my mother. "Work called- they said you were supposed to be there 20 minutes ago, and they couldn't reach you on your cell phone. Did you forget?" Shit. I quickly powered up my cell phone, and called the unit. Yep, I must have written it down wrong because they were expecting me there today.

And the third examination took place this evening. I hurried into work this morning to care for a little toddler who was cute as a button. By the afternoon she was really not a PICU patient at all, and I decided to take her around the unit a little, since she was going stir crazy in the crib bed. I walked her around and around the unit while holding her. At one point she put her little head on my shoulder. I even passed her to the attending physician (and ICU director) who cuddled with her a bit and then gave her back. When I was putting her back in her bed, I noticed some "stuff" in her hair. Three nurses and several quick examinations later, we determined that she had head lice. I swear, my head immediately began itching. After work, I stopped in at Walgreens and purchased some lice shampoo and went home and went to work on my own head. And I regret to say that was the only success of the three events.