Not Friday Night

Here’s a lesson for you. DO NOT, go out on Thursday night and act like it is Friday night. I repeat – Do Not!

So, Doug and I go out for Happy Hour (the prices, not the attitude) Thursday after work. I get off at 4:30, so this is 4:45 maybe. He orders beer; I can get a whole bottle of wine on Happy Hour for the cost of a regular glass later in the evening. So, let’s do that. A couple of glasses later, we order food. He gets chicken tenders; I order warm spinach artichoke dip.  Had a nice time. Leave for home. Get home, it’s still early. Have another glass of wine.  Okay, getting tired. Let the dogs out one last time. Lock up – set the alarm. Start for bed. WAIT! Where’s the little black dog? Where’s Max? Look Everywhere. Did we leave him outside? (We’ve done that before). Throw open the door – the alarm starts whaling! Run to shut off alarm. Not worried about my neighbors. This happens, a lot. Plus the people next door? Please. Stay at home Mom. Two little girls. School is out. Plus – you have an I ground pool. So – shut it!

Still looking for black dog. Find him – in the bed – under the covers, oblivious. Get into bed ourselves. My cell phone rings. It’s the alarm company. “Who am I speaking to?” She asks Me. What?? You called my cell phone! (Do robbers, rapists, kidnappers generally answer someone’s cell phone after breaking into their house?) Told her my name, so then she asks me my code for the alarm. Huh? Lady, it’s late. I’m tipsy, I don’t know! So she says, “Are you okay?” Yes, yes I am. She hangs up.

I finally go to sleep only to wake up and realize – THIS is Friday! I have to go to work! Yuck!

(And I add this part, only as a disclaimer – if you eat the warm spinach artichoke dip as an appetizer, the next day, your poop will be dark green. Just sayin’) Stay tuned.