STILL looking for my mojo. Today is W's house-hunting day. It's not the house-hunting that's sucking the life out of my mojo per se, it's the thinking about that rapidly approaching day when we have to sit down with S9 and D6 and drop the bomb on them.
Had a GAL activity last night -- quite an unusual one. I was invited to a reception at an embassy. Wore a new Calvin Klein suit (dark blue with a very faint chalk stripe), Egyptian cotton shirt with French cuffs, some of my expensive new French smell-sweet-sh*t.
Not a compliment to be found in the county. Oh well. I looked good. I knew it.
Interesting conversations, a pleasant couple hours.
When I came home, though, I pulled up short outside the front door -- WAW was literally screaming at the S9 because (apparently) he wasn't doing what she'd demanded (surprise -- S9's are natural-born back-sassers!).
I didn't want to bust in -- DB Coach suggests I let WAW see what it will be like to be alone in her own house with them -- but by the same token, WHAT THE FARK?
So after it quieted down, I went inside. WAW was perfectly composed. "Hello! How did it go?"
And why was she yelling? I don't know, exactly, but could it have something to do with the fact that she was on the computer? Hmmm. And had been there for quite some time to judge by the empty ice cream container, coffee cup, etc.?
Nah.
Anyhoo. I'm still in a funk. Gonna swallow a Xanax. Thank Jah for the happy pills.
