Long hot, week. Worked late every night prepping for an artist's retreat this weekend; didn't get off until nearly 10 yesterday, so when Cara, my boss, told me to take the day off today, I loaded my boat on the car and headed off for the lake.
Hot, still air means calm water, but lots of bugs. Coated myself with repellent until I was nearly infused with the stuff, and it still didn't work. Ended up coming home, sipping iced tea, staring at the walls around me and wondering what I could do to improve the place.
Then Frank came by promising margaritas and some enchiladas. Music, too.
What's a girl to do? Refuse?
Not this one.
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Nothing here ever really happened. But it is all, nonetheless, perfectly true.
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