Chocolate Castles as wel

This morning I fasted. I would like to say that I did it to spend more time in prayer, but the fact is that I had to have some lab work done. I put on enough make-up so as not to scare anyone and headed out the door at 7:05 a.m. Now, I am the first to admit that I truly am one of those that need all the layers of makeup so that I hopefully hide several years of wrinkles. I had just had my roots watered and fed and so no gray was showing. When I walked into the waiting room, I thought to myself, “hum…I shouldn’t have really worried about how my hair or makeup looks, most of the people there looked like they barely had rolled out of bed, much less brushed their hair and maybe not their teeth. But I sat down to wait my turn. Giving me a chance to play Candy Crush, I was so proud that I had gotten up and was getting this behind me. When my name was called, I walked quickly into room #4 and gave my best smile to the little girl that probably just graduated last week from high school. She began to enter my info into the computer without taking her eyes off the screen, she ask me my birthday. I quickly responded, “7-11-50” She repeated after me, “7-11-15”. What???? Should I have added that second layer of foundation this morning? I quickly corrected her and said, “that is 50, not 15”. She looked at me and said, “50 not 15?”. Well, I know that I have been looking a little haggard and maybe a new wrinkle or two is forming over my mouth, but 15? Really? Is it that bad? Did she really think that I was born in 1915? That would make me 98? My goodness, surely either she isn’t good at math or has the worst eyesight ever. I am now not feeling very confident in the young whipper snapper that is going to be sticking a needle in my arm. But I stepped out in faith and allowed her to proceed. Maybe I should have been praying, during the morning fast, instead of playing Candy Crush. I survived the ordeal and quickly put in a call to a plastic surgeon to get an estimate for a face lift, while walking to the garage to retrieve my car. Oh, this story gets better.

Pulling up to the exit in the parking garage, I inform the nice gentleman that, because I had entered the garage at 7:15, the machine wasn’t on yet to spit out tickets. He said that is alright, and asked me what time I entered. I told him 7:15 and he told me I owed $1.60. As I was trying to look for the $1.60 in the very dark underground garage, he proceeded to get his phone out and show me his new bride that looked at least 20 yrs younger than he.(I found out she was 20 years younger) All I said was, “oh my, she is very pretty.” Well, I guess he either gets very lonely sitting there underground all day or doesn’t ever get to talk at home, because I sat there in my car, in the dark, hearing about how his first wife of 13 years died in his arms and how a friend of his deceased wife found him this new wife. I also heard about a man who had come to stay at their house for a few months and every thing he fixed in this man’s house and what all he learned as he watched him fix what was broken. Where were all the cars that usually are honking to get out of the garage, when you need them. He then proceeded to tell me that when he is not working there, he has a car detail business that has afforded him to be able to have 2 houses and new cars. OK…now I am dying to get out of that garage and call Randy and tell him that he needs to quit the title business and get into the garage attendant business with a car detail side business. I want 2 houses and a new car too. But Randy informed me that he is too old and to tired to start over. That reminded me to follow up with the plastic surgeon and be sure that our insurance covers a very much needed facelift, according to the little high school lab tech.  Am spending the Labor Day weekend buying all new makeup and going to get my hair cut. Hopefully by Monday I will at least pass for 80.

Have a wonderful and safe Labor day and will be back to you on Tuesday.  TKbakesalot