can't trust May

August has typically been my month of Change....i've always changed jobs in August...moved in August...gotten engaged in August (each time)....and felt the first stirrings of autumn in August. so it's a month i look forward to like the circus: what's new and exciting around the corner? and also with a little trepidation: what's up THIS year? But May...i never trust May. it is my month of chaos and unrest. i get squirmy like a kid in church. i am typically out of sorts and unrested mentally & physically. and on a normal day-to-day basis throughout the year, things happen to me that could ONLY happen to Me. so when May rolls around, i want to stay inside for safety. so today - a day in May - started as a typical day in May.....i did n-o-t want to go to work. ever again. or be married. or be productive in any way. luckily husband has left for a weeklong business trip. i wonder if he planned it on purpose? anyway. i went to work, despite my inner voice screaming like a banshee to stay home and stamping it's little foot like a spoiled child in the candy line at the grocery store. i went. i built character. i'll spare you the blow-by-blow of odd and uneven events that occurred throughout the day because it would re-exhaust me to go through it again. except this one cosmic gem: when i got home, i changed into my typical sweatshirt and jeans. a man known only as David was coming by to pick up a turtle trap of his that i'd found. (part of a mapping project by the university...definitely not a killing/trapping trap). on the phone he had a melting Aussie accent. so i go about my business - making dinner, kissing Diva,etc, and unconsciously rubbing Something caught in the sleeve of my freshly washed sweatshirt. (don't jump ahead!) so David (who is very handsome & married & has a daughter who turned 1 yesterday and is far too young to be caught unawares by my charm and besides i'm married) is chatting about the turtle project and meanwhile, i've worked this lump of whatever down to the cuff of my sweatshirt. not really thinking about it. it's just a lumpy annoyance. something in my back burner thinks it's probably an old kleenex or dryer sheet (as i usually find dryer sheets stuck in or on my underpants at work which explains why i will never get a promotion, i suppose) but there is a small, quiet alarm going off somewhere on another brain burner that's saying "just wait a few minutes before pulling that out of your sleeve you bonehead." But it is May after all. so entrancing was this aussie accent that my fingers, of their own volition i tell you on their own without full permission of the brain, the fingers of my right hand reach into the cuff of my left sleeve and produce not a kleenex or dryer sheet no but a pair of actual underpants like some sort of sick suburban houdini trick i'm standing there talking about turtle mapping and whipping under-freaking-pants out of my sleeve in front of this highly educated and deliriously attractive but never to be touched man in my own private driveway i will never forget the shame and should cut off the offending fingers and thanking God ONLY that i will never i tell you never have to see this man again in this life or the next because i'm sure he'll point me out at the pearly gates "that's the harlot" and i shall spend eternity in hell which at this moment i have a taste of mentally. what most of you don't know is that 6 years or so ago, i prayed and prayed for someone else's life. i now realize i should have been more specific. i think i know where I Love Lucy's went. how many ways i ask you is it possible to humiliate oneself on a daily basis and not end up growing a large bulbous nose that goes HONK when squeezed? so for this example, as so very many more, is the secret to why i am unbothered by the people who call and scream about getting a bill for $7.10 more than they thought it would be....that is so much more preferable to Life's Little HaHa's. i'll now go let the dog out. L.