Duck left last week. I'm still in Atlanta, still helping my Mom clean out the house. It's like a giant spider lived here, what with all the cobwebs and detritus of dried bug corpses littered in every unswept corner. Can't wait to go back to mine so I can start my life anew as a minimalist slash obsessive-compulsive neatfreak. I will be a caveman meets MarthaStewart, possessing only a sharp rock, and a couple of votive candles.
I was taking a break at friends' house for dinner last night. We were gossiping about old high school acquaintances - who has kids and how many, who are balding, who are married and who are already divorced - all that juicy stuff, which led to a discussion as to the appropriate age for marriage. Apparently age is pretty much the only deciding factor used to determine wedded longevity, and according to my high school buddy, I married too young. You're just feeling dumb that it took you 10 years to propose to your girlfriend, but look now you've already spawned! I countered. I'm still gettin' it AND sleeping eight hours a night haha! I like how old friends can be relied upon with all the non-sugarcoating. That led to some reminiscing about our wedding in Puerto Rico, and it was only after a full 10 minutes' discussion that I suddenly bolted upright and screamed, WAIT WHAT'S TODAY'S DATE?!?!
Today's Date (as in yesterday) would be our 6th anniversary. I would have mentioned it to Duck during the two phone calls we had earlier in the day. Had I remembered. Had either of us remembered. Heh.
April 27, 2002
Here's to 60 more years of forgetting!
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