To (whatever) or not to (whatever)
This is disturbing.
Monday’s Blues
Nice version of Hotel California, via an Aquarius.
The fish told me to get back to work.
Makes that afternoon espresso a good idea.
Glad I don’t work overtime, just work 7 our of 7, most weeks. Following a news link from there, I’m reminded, “Weekends: brought to you by unions.”
So I was headed towards Green Mesquite and I rang up a Gemini to check on her, she said she was just finishing at her hair stylist, and my Gemini decided to pop on by for some BBQ. She walked in at the point where I was about halfway through a plate of ribs and brisket, and I greeted her with a cheery smile, and around some potato salad, I noted that she’d had her hair cut.
Lunch proceeded, and then she reminded me that I blew the “hair cut” comment. In my defense, I did notice.
“But you didn’t tell me how nice it looked.”
Remember, next time?
My Virgo neighbor rang me up for some dinner, and we headed off towards Guero’s. Yeah, a Virgo, Guero’s, tequila, it all spells trouble.
So as she got started on that margarita, I was asking about her weekend, wherein she colored her hair. “Looks great, I like the way you’ve colored it.” I couldn’t tell, in the front bar at Guero’s? At night? Under the neon? Looks fine. But I’d remembered from the previous lunch-time experience, and I wasn’t about to say anything stupid.
At least, nothing more stupid than hair comments.
“Do you like the jeans?”
“Hey, looks like you’ve lost a little weight.”
“So the jeans make me look fat?”
You know, if dinner and Jupiter weren’t on the plate for the evening, I would’ve been done for, right there.
Fortunately for me, Jupiter is in Virgo. But one day, maybe I’ll take my own advice, “When you’re in a hole, the fastest way out is to stop digging.”
It’s long way to the other side.
