What do you think? I have been specially chosen by the widowed daughter of an African president to manage and control $27,000,000. She is in political asylum right now. Think I should hand over all my personal information to help her out?
Totally kidding. Do people still fall for the foreign prince with endless funds that they need you, Mr. or Mrs. Relatively Nobody, in the United States to manage for them?
Maybe I should take a moment to feel special for being singled out of over 300,000,000 other people in the United States to be considered for such an amazing opportunity.
Then I'll trash the email.
The kids and I took a couple nights this past month to look at Christmas lights. We loaded up the car with kids and hot coca to take in the hard work other people have done.
Each town has a family that decorates like Clark Griswold from Christmas Vacation. It's like a treasure hunt to find that house. Except it's not hidden too well. It lights up the entire street. I like it.
I'm not doing it to my house.
What a winning week here at my house. Dishes done. Laundry done, and the clean loads that were sitting around for longer than I care to admit are folded and put away.
3 bags of clothes ready for where clothes go to die--the thrift store.
Some of the excess Christmas decorations put away. I'm keeping out all the lights, though. They make me happy during dreary months of gray skies.
Washed my car. Washed is rather a stretch of the common meaning of the word. It was the $5 rinse-off at the car wash. Equivalent to getting a spray down with a garden hose. Better than nothing. I couldn't see out the back window anymore, and the car was dirt-colored, not white anymore.
Every time I travel at all by car--which is all the time, really--I am reminded of the necessity to review road rules. My latest trip from Indiana to Wisconsin on I-94 is the inspiration for the list below:
The ramp is a runway to merge onto the interstate at a rate of speed matching that of the current traffic on the interstate. Please gun it when you're on the ramp. The rest of us have to merge also.
If you see the sign for your exit a couple miles ahead of the exit, it's okay to start making your way over to that lane. Please do not wait until the last 500 feet to cross 4 lanes of traffic.
Left lanes are for speeders; right lanes are for the not speeders. Choose appropriately.
The shoulder is not an extra passing lane. (I'm looking at you, Chicago!)
Don't cut off a semi. Lots of weight at high velocity? Your little car and you are getting squashed if he has to stop quickly.
If you are racing to your date with the Angel of Death, do it away from me--and any other people. We'd like to stay alive, please.
Can't abide by dat? Stay off da road, will ya?