We're not getting older, we're getting better

Whoever said that is fulla shit.

I know...I know. You're only as old as ya feel. I guess Ziggy and I felt pretty damn old today.

As often as not, he gets forced into working Saturdays. He was supposed to have worked tonight in fact, but got a last-minute reprieve. So what'd we do with this gorgeous day, you might ask? I did laundry and he took a nap. This evening, we went out to eat, came home, did the snuggly thing (no, not that snuggly thing...just the regular snuggly thing) on the sofa and watched 'Scary Movie 3' and then Carl Sagan's 'Cosmos'. Hey...we're eclectic in our viewing tastes, ok?

The highlight of the evening was when....ah...nevermind. Let's just say neither of us are quite dead yet.

Thank gawd for small favors.

Uh...wait. That doesn't sound....that's not the way I meant it. I was talking about...nevermind.

(Ziggy, baby...you're my stallion, ok?)

Anywho, the really sad thing is, we even had a party to go to tonight. He asked me if I wanted to go, now that he'd been saved from spending his evening at that nasty place he has to spend far too much time at every week, anyway. I said, "Not especially." I asked him if he wanted to go. His response? "I can take it or leave it."

Yea, we're just a couple a balls a fire, ain't we?

I can remember...and it wasn't that long ago...that all you had to do was mention 'go out' or 'party' and I was ready and I was good to go all night. If I had to miss a chance to party for any reason, I was verklempt for days.

Oh, I still perk up when I hear the word 'party'. But then I start thinkin about all the things I'd hafta do...like shower and wash my hair and do my hair and find something to wear and discard the first seven things I choose and find some shoes to match that eighth thing I finally choose and throw some makeup on and be chatty and sparkling and witty and drink far too much and feel like something the dog yakked up the next morning.

Then I take a deep breath and wonder if I have the energy to do all those things, decide I don't and wind up sitting at home with Carl Sagan on a Saturday night.

And he IS dead.