I must be a bad, bad girl…
That’s the only explanation I can come up with. I think the saying is really “no rest for the weary” but I grew up hearing my mom say “no rest for the wicked”. And I must be one wicked woman, although I always thought it would be more fun. It has almost become a joke, albeit a not very funny one, that whenever I lie down for a quick, much-needed nap, the phone will ring or someone will show up at the door. No, I do not wish to purchase siding for my house (which happens to be made of stone), nor am I interested in answering your survey even if it will only take two minutes. I am truly sorry if you are handicapped but I am not interested in buying lightbulbs. And could someone, anyone, please figure out a way to make it clear to all the parents of the kids attending the local kindergarten that the first three numbers of the school are 310, NOT 332? I am ever so tired of answering the phone time after time, hoping it is someone from the prize patrol checking to make sure I will be home when Ed McMahon comes to deliver a huge check, only to discover it is yet another parent who can’t read a phone number.
Living as I do out in the country, I don’t get too many friends just dropping by for a visit. The fact that I usually get some warning is one of the perks of rural living. Unfortunately the UPS guy doesn’t call first (or perhaps he is confused and calls the school instead) but if he is bringing me something from Amazon.com I will forgive him, even if I am trying to nap. Likewise when the floral delivery guy showed up today after I had been asleep approximately 6.5 minutes I could live with that. Especially since he was bringing a lovely bouquet of lavender roses from David who is away on a business trip.
One thing about it, if I am ever lonely and wanting someone to call or drop by I know exactly what to do — assume a horizontal position and close my eyes.