I finally fired up my Clinton-era computer and got my lazy ass to check email. It only took 12 minutes to get into my in-box. Somehow I like to think my time is more precious than that, but it's probably not.
Now I'm giggling to myself as I was just reminded of a something we used to always say as kids:
Hit the deck!!!
I was sitting here reading my friend Jason's blog when the doorbell rang. I tiptoed to the peephole, and sure enough, it was my ultra-friendly eighty-year-old neighbor, Betty, and her trusty red umbrella. Suddenly the saying we used all the time as kids flooded my mind. We would hide and yell (which, yes, is very contradictory) and I did the adult equivalent: I tiptoed away, cursing myself for moving to this cutesy, friendly neighborhood.
It's not that I don't like Betty, but I'm one of those just-wave-hi-every-so-often-and-we're-cool kind of people while she's a hey-we're-best-friends-ain't-we-Spike kind of person. Never mind that there's a friggin' 50-plus-year age difference or that we have absolutely no reason to speak to one another other than she's bored. My parents and Dan talk to her, but me, I hide like David Koresh. Now she's invading my compound.
Why do people have to like me? I wonder if I scare her away for good if I answer the door naked...