It is Wednesday. I'm sure of it. It was compost day, and I dutifully place my green container at the curb. I rode to the gym, and one of my buddies there said..."happy Wednesday." I nodded, smirked, and said..."is it Wednesday all day?" He delighted at such good natured gym banter and hauled on my bikini briefs and gave me the biggest wedgie ever. It hurt look nobody's business, but I'm tough, I'm a gym goer, right, and so I smiled and said..."Jugtar, you b#astard." Oh, yeah, I'll get him back at the bench press, when I give him a spot...NOT! LMAO.
So, anyway, I come home and my daughter number two says "Dad, it's Weds, I have tap." That is code for put down the coffee you just poured and take me to my tap dancing lesson. I oblige as I'm whipped without the describing word in front. Sad, but true. I contemplate on this as I sit in the parking lot of the tap studio, and I think "if I could go back to Saturday the 16th, my life would be so different."
Now that it is, I'm a little frightened. Anyone else feel scared?
Basso