Drop In Neighbors and Rock Castle Gorge

An hour.

It has taken me a full hour. To assemble this fucking office chair. Maybe two. It’s all an obscenities filled blur.

This is not a single person job.

And yes. Those are my pajama bottoms in a heap on the floor.

Shit got hectic for a while.

Those holes…just wouldn’t line up.

And not a damn one of the cats would help me hold things in place so I could get the screws in.

Punkin. Useless.

And this is not the week for this level of aggravation.

Because it absolutely was a week.

For Confections Queen and I both.

Thankfully, I just bought two new bags of chocolate chips scones from her. So I was somewhat prepared.

Seriously. Check out Karnes Confections

But by the time I hit my couch after work on Friday. With my can of spaghettios. I was definitely beyond my people limit.

Which is obviously the time my neighbor chose to knock on my door.

And we all know I’m a huge fan of drop in visits.

“Did you know you have a puddy on your porch?”

I thought maybe puddy on your porch was some sort of euphemism. But he had his tiny little yippy dog with him. And that didn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d bring with you if you were gonna throw euphemisms around.

…I’m sorry, what now?

“You got a puddy.”

I don’t know what that…what.

Which is the point at which Punkin. With as much annoyance and pissiness as she could muster. Jumped down off the chair in which she had been happily napping. Grumbled something offensive to the little yippy dog. And stomped into the house.

Leaving me outside with super chatty neighbor.

Thirty minutes later. I think that neighbor believes we are now just drop in to chat type neighbors.

I’m not a drop in to chat neighbor.

The only acceptable drop in neighbor I’ve ever had was BFFF.

And yippy dog dad is not BFFF.

So I was really over the whole people-ing thing. For the entire weekend.

Except GJB strongly suggested I go to Dru Hill’s 70th birthday run at Rock Castle Gorge.

He promised he would crawl at the back of the pack with me. Where I wouldn’t have to people.

Except it was a solid group. That didn’t at all aggravate my non-socials.

But I had to stay at the back anyway. Because I definitely couldn’t keep up with Dru Hill. On her 70th birthday.

And I might feel bad about that. Except she is and always has been a badass. So I feel ok about just even being able to manage the same route as her. Regardless of how slow I was.

In my defense. The last five miles. GJB and Tiny Brazilian and I were immersed in an intensely philosophical conversation. Wait. No. Intensely questionable conversation. With some philosophical thrown in.

So we absolutely casually strolled our asses back to the parking lot. When we absolutely should have been running.

I absolutely supported it, though.

Because even though I’ve made it to, like, five PlayFITStayFIT classes over the last month. I haven’t magically gotten back into shape yet. (I have lost a whole pound, though. Which should’ve made carrying myself up the mountain a little easier…)

And I’ve gotta say. After watching Dude With The Charming And Disarming Smile. For the second time. Get taken down with ab muscle cramps. I’m kinda ok with having skipped core day for the last year. Or two.

It’s probably the closest I’ve seen a man come to understanding the pain of childbirthing.

Assembling that damn office chair is the closest I’ve come to experiencing the pain of childbirthing again.

I don’t need to experience that pain again.

So I’m gonna just lie here on this couch. With my books. And refuse to answer the door. For the rest of the weekend.

I don’t care how many puddys show up on my porch.

Leave a Reply