Friday, November 20, 2015
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Hubs: Yup. You're on the verge.
Friday, November 13, 2015
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
Hubs: It's black and white, so I'm thinking funeral.
Me: Like, "Woohoo! Glad she's dead!"?
Hubs: Yeah. Like, "I'm rich, biotch!"
Monday, November 9, 2015
Hubs has just said something particularly insulting and I shoot him my most withering glare.
Hubs: I only said that because I knew you'd get that look on your face. I don't get it to see it that often anymore.
Me: Well. . . because usually I just laugh and high-five you.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Monday, November 2, 2015
I notice an elderly patient staring intently at my neck while we're talking. He finally says something.
Him: I'm sorry I'm staring, but your necklace is beautiful. Is there any significance?
[We discuss it briefly.]
Him: Well, I'm a retired journalist so I'm curious about things, and I've learned to just ask.
Me: There's no harm in that. I mean, if I'm wearing it in public it's probably not a reminder of some horrible something.
Him: That's true. But you never know when someone might say, "Oh, yeah, I got it from a whorehouse."