TheBanyanTree: Guide For The Terminally Awkward

[Monique Colver]

It's been one of those weeks, folks, but here it is almost Friday and I'm
still here. Not that there's been a problem, per se, (I see people write it
as per say, and I laugh), but I sure do sleep a lot. Sleeping by itself
isn't a problem, but when I'm supposed to be working, it's sort of
annoying. I get through most of the day, but then, by the end of it, I've
got to take a nap. And they're good naps, don't get me wrong, it's not as
if I'm not enjoying them, but cripes. I'm sleeping the sleep of the dead
and then I a few hours later I go to bed and sleep like the dead again.

That's not entirely true of course. As far as I know, the dead don't dream,
but don't quote me on that. I could be wrong.

My new literary project, or one of them, if I can decide which one to do
first, and assuming I get this lingering one out by my deadline of May
15th, has a working title of Guide for the Terminally Awkward. And that's
all I'm going to say right now because, knowing me as well as I do, next
week it'll be something altogether different. However, I am uniquely
qualified to write this one, and I'm sure it will be fabulous.

Yesterday evening I was napping (as usual) and the husband was out of the
house, out buying supplies or tracking vampires or something, I don't know,
and the doorbell rang.

I hate it when the doorbell rings.

Ash was sleeping with me, as he always does, but when that doorbell went
off he went racing off down the stairs to join up with Honey, who was
already at the front door to tell the would-be intruder that they were
quite annoyed. Since I was in bed I didn't get up.

Why would I? I mean, it would have to be a pretty big deal to get me up. I
hadn't even fallen asleep yet, not technically, and I was pretty determined
to do so.

The doorbell rang again.

I don't know about you, but if I were at someone's door and was being
greeted by what could be mistaken for a pack of wild dogs barking their
fool heads off, I'd just calmly back away from the door before they came
crashing through.

And then they knocked. Because that's going to work, right?

And then the doorbell rang again.

I did crawl out of bed then, mostly because I wanted to go to the door,
open it, then slam it in someone's face. Of course, by the time I got
dressed and downstairs, there wasn't anyone there.

Just two fool dogs still barking their heads off, just in case.

Another week almost over, and I think it's time for pie.



Monique