Perhaps Karma is real. I just returned (now reporting) from my real life in Ohio. Coffee at the house, Sunday a regular day, no worship or prayers to a meany old God (that for some reason has decided to be less condescending to women in the temple
, which I'm sure changes things for all us women folk). Just days of sawing logs (literally; I got a chainsaw for Christmas), running around the local towns, sewing, margaritas at the local (five miles away) Mexican joint, and living life. Now I'm back at dad's house. Here is where the Karma comes in. My car quit, today is Sunday and I get to attend church with my dad. This means I go 20 minutes early AND stay for the whole thing. I know it's an hour shorter, yay, but now I have to talk to people. I'm worried that my dad is going to plan home study on Sundays. Kill me now. His Internet service also resets every day and renders it useless from 3 am until whenever someone resets it (I know nothing about tech). I get up early, usually about 5 and work on the computer. No Internet, no coffee, no access to the modem, since my brother sleeps in the room with the modem. So I go to Starbucks. Without a car, I get to ride my bike, only without a car, I get to ride my bicycle. I'm at Starbucks now. It's my religion; I would get baptized in coffee if they had such a ceremony. Riding my bike is not a bad thing, but God decided to make it a rainy day. Hahahaha
.
I'm whining, but I know you understand. Still, it's not as difficult as having the TBM being your spouse and not your 93 year old dad.
, I could have some fun.
