Last night, flushed in a dual victory in which I won Bunco Bingo (first time EVER winning Bingo as I have been a loser in that game since fourth grade) AND I came in first place during Bunco. It was a duo win. A big night!
But then I toppled from my pedestal.
When I got home and entered our back door (in the dark, mind you) a GIANT, JURASSIC-SIZED flying creature flew into my hair. I have never seen the like: three inches long, almost as thick, with lightning speed and a buzzing sound that rivaled a lawn mower.
You can imagine my panic. I dropped all my bags and, waving my arms, ran out of the laundry room and slammed the door. With my heart beating out of control, I could hear that THING, buzzing and banging against the walls.
Now, Bia-the-Bug-Killer I am not. I leave that job for Joe or Timothy. But one is in Kansas City and the other in Athens, so I would have to manage THE THING all by myself. I would have to be Bia-the-Brave.
Except I wasn't. When I slowly opened the door that thing flew straight at me. So I slammed the door shut again and stuffed towels underneath so that THING would be imprisoned in the laundry room.
Where it has remained all night.
So now, this morning, I have a dilemma. I am all dressed for a canal walk EXCEPT for my sneakers, which are in the laundry room. My winning prizes are in the laundry room, one of which I was going to have with breakfast. My purse and car keys are still in the laundry room and I have some errands to run later this morning.
I will have to do battle, I see that now. I will have to wage war and reconquer my laundry room.
At some point. Maybe after I finish this post. And have a cappuccino. And check my email.
You know, maybe I will just skip the walk.
Bia-the-Brave ignoring the issue. That I can do.
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