I Forgot My Underware

1 Aug

I turned 61 last month so discussing my underwear is not intended in anyway to resemble sex talk.  Rather, it’s a reflection of the kind of stress I’m undergoing as we list our house on the real estate market.

I mentioned our House “editor” in a previous post who counseled us on “staging” (gosh I hate that word) our house to present it in the most favorable light.  Well that staging has resulted in a considerable amount of work…replacing light fixtures with recessed lighting, painting every wall and door, re-carpeting, new faucets and door knobs, and storing funky artwork in a newly rented storage facility.

In the midst of readying our home for sale, I had arthroscopic knee surgery and my husband and I were in the throws of a busy time in our work-life.  Escaping to the beach with our two noisy dogs seemed like the logical move.  Anyone who might want to see the house (and there have been only a few) could do so unimpeded.  In a distracted mood, I through a few items in an overnight case and literally crawled into the car (more than a little accurate considering my recent knee surgery) to head to our beach place.

Unpacking a few hours later I realized I had forgotten my underwear.  Forgetting fundamentals, like underwear, seemed illustrative of the craziness of the past few weeks.  Thank goodness for the Bealls Department store in New Smyrna Beach.

Note to my blog subscribers-  I’m moving from WordPress to Blogger for my blog posts.  I would love it if you would click on the following link and subscribe to my blog on my new site.  I promise, no annoying emails or anything different, just a new site.  Thank you!


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