I lost my will. Not the one to live but the other one.
I tore my house apart looking for it.
I asked my nephew Jim, who is my executor and will lawyer of record if I had sent the signed copy back to him.
His response of “Beats me” might have made another person nervous but another person wasn’t remembering how cute he was from the time he was little and still is. I just asked him to send me another copy.
Now I have to find a notary which isn’t easy.
My house search did bring to light several items that may or not be useful in the future.
I found my wedding certificate, some savings bonds that my mother got when I was born, my car title, some crap that dave may need when he sells the boat, a copy of a threatening letter that my good cousin wrote to my bad cousin in 1986 telling him what a shit he is, and a paper that Stephanie wrote for school about how wonderful I am. She obviously wasn’t that convincing because her teacher wrote in the margins in red “I hate her already”.
You figure out which of these things isn’t worth having. You’ll probably guess wrong.
Miss Liz is home for the week. It’s been heaven.
Today we went to Costco and out to lunch.
David took his jacket off in the diner and Liz asked him if that was the same t shirt he slept in.
Ignoring that fact that he still should be wooing her since they are not married yet, he said “Yes but don’t blame me. You wouldn’t let me wear the “I Heart Strippers” shirt that I got at the Daytona Biker’s Weekend to bed. I love that shirt. I’ll wear it to the gym”
Even though, as you know, I like to keep my own council, I was forced to intrude on their love talk.
“You will look like such a schmuck if you wear that to the gym”
“Let him” Lizzie said “Then no women will give him a second look”
I was forced to remind her that that’s what I thought. I felt totally safe with dave wearing big pants, a captain’s hat and crocks but someone still scooped him up.
Of course she was from another land. Maybe that’s hip there.
David just has to find a self hating woman who long ago gave up any hope of meeting a man with an ounce of dignity.
I guess she’ll have to be french.