I woke up at about 4 a.m., watched The Real Housewives of Atlanta and one or two other gems and went back to sleep.
The other day I went over to David’s house to share the morning. When I got home my sister Marcia called and screamed at me because I didn’t answer my phone. Naturally she assumed I was dead. She wanted my doorman’s number so she could call and see if I went out. Clearly that wouldn’t have solved the problem because I never left the 18th floor but I didn’t want to argue.
Marcia calls me every morning at 8 a.m. I usually get up at around 6 or 7 but sometimes I fall back asleep and when Marcia calls she wakes me up. Then she yells at me because I should have taken my phone off the hook.
Don’t think I don’t know how boring this is so far but it lays the groundwork for what happened this morning.
After the tongue lashing I got yesterday I was very careful to take the phone off the hook before going back to sleep today. I did sleep a bit later than usual because I was dreaming about the cat that I’m thinking of getting but as soon as I woke up I called Marcia.
“Call Julie and call me back. She’s worried sick about you.”
I called Julie who said “Thank God. I just sent an email to Liz and David asking for Lester’s (my super’s) phone number.”
“Why did you do that?”
Images of my hunky super coming into my house and seeing me sleeping in my penoir, which looks very much like a big tshirt, with my breathing machine attached to my face and my dining room table still covered with the dirty dishes from last night was more than I could bear.
“I thought you were dead”
Then David called from Chicago. He had left this morning to spend the next two weeks with Lizzie in Santa Fe and he was in between planes.
“Your family is fucking nuts.”
Speaking of David, I got a lot of comments on yesterday’s blog. Here’s my response.
I’ve decided to take off the kid gloves and show him as he is. No more protecting him from the hoards of Liberals that he is sure are trying to steal his hard earned tax dollars and waste them on frivolities like food for babies or as he likes to say, the millions of minorities that are smoking dope and mugging us so that they can live in fancy apartments and drive Escalades.
He drives me crazy but I get my own in too. Just yesterday I told him that Protestantism isn’t a real religion it’s kind of an offshoot, like Scientology or Wicken.
I thought his arms and legs would fly off.
Merry Christmas everyone.