Woke up early … again. I seem to always wake up somewhere between 0545 and 0630, even on days when I’m not working. Even on days when I stayed up until 0330 the night before. This could get to be a problem. Luckily, I can usually get back to sleep if I need it. But still. It’s ridiculous.
When I woke up the second time, Perky had gotten up and was starting to sort through garage stuff. Huzzah! And she seemed okay to do it alone and not need a cheerleader. Huzzah Huzzah! I ended up cleaning off and sweeping the patio for an afternoon dance lesson. It’s been a long time, but the dance floor seems to be holding up very well.
Went out to get some Vitamin D … by taking a short walk in the sunshine. Was just going to walk through the neighborhood and look at houses, but ended up going over to Clementine’s. It was packed. Wished I’d brought a wallet, but as it was I could only longing gaze at the lovely soups, salads and quiches that the sidewalk diners were feasting on.
Back at the garage, things were going full-force. Such cleanliness! Killed a bunch more spiders, and got almost everything organized. All Wonder Woman’s boxed kitchen stuff now neatly organized. Next thing to do is organize all the serving platters, etc. Camping and emergency equipment shelved and organized. Cobwebs and dust swept away. Perky’s garage sale items amassed in the center, awaiting becoming someone else’s stuff. So purgingly wonderful.
Socrates (so-named because of a penchant for asking awkward questions and speculating wildly) arrived in the afternoon for a swing dancing lesson. I always wonder why more guys don’t take up dancing. In fact, most men seem to have made up their minds that they don’t dance well. Which is ridiculous. Most people haven’t ever tried partner dancing (doing a slow bear hug in a circle to “Somebody” by Depeche Mode doesn’t count). And even if they have, it takes a while to do it well. The first time I tried swing dancing (in college, at a FHE activity), I think I was so bad that no one wanted to dance with me. And this was during my extra-cute phase!
Anyway, I have a theory about men not liking to dance. I think that somewhere along the line, probably in junior high school or thereabouts, some girl they had a crush on, told them that they danced like a dork. And so, they were crushed by their crush, and refused to dance forever more. Which is sad. Since the girl probably had a crush right back on the boy. But then, where would we be without awful pubescent stories to share? Wait … don’t answer that.
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