Today, I will admit to you, was a day I spent reading, mostly. I felt guilty about not getting more done, but escaped the guilt by reading, see how that works? Anyway, it was my mom's fault. She sent me a 500-page novel that was very absorbing and then three days ago scolded me for not reading it. So I finished it today.
When I woke up (having falling asleep reading last night) I went into the living room to read. I was sitting on the couch when someone knocks quietly on the door. I have a policy of not answering the door when I am in my pyjamas and I'm not expecting someone. Especially in the middle of the day. My Protestant work ethic based shame is strong. So I sit tight and don't answer. They knock again. And again. I'm starting to feel creeped out. And then this little voice says, "Robyn?"
So I answer it. It's my next door neighbor, this 70-something woman who is friendly but always has an earful ready about the way people park out back or how the city never asked her if she wanted a tree planted outside her window. She tells me that she's going away for a couple days and I should help myself to her LA Times. I try to act nonchalant in my pyjamas at eleven in the morning.
How did she know I was home! And how did she know I was in the living room! The curtains were mostly closed! Was she around our side of the house peeking through them? Creepy! I miss living on the second floor.
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