I wish he would call

I wish he would call. I tried to call him but no answer. No surprise there; his phone appears to be attached to his hip pocket everywhere outside of his house but not within it (unless I am there, too. Then, for some reason, he answers it).

It is late. I fall asleep early, usually. Wednesday nights are the only nights I can afford to let myself stay up late because I have a day off on Thursdays. My weekend starts tonight, and finishes tomorrow night. And, therefore, by logical (girl) conclusion, this is Friday for me.
 
And Friday, I’m in love.

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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