Sadly, one of my neighbors will be moving to a different country soon, so she had a big garage sale to get rid of a lot of stuff, good stuff. She’s moving from here to Japan., going from big to small. I bought a purse from her. It’s a lovely purse, and a purse is a purse is a purse, unless it’s a suitcase.
I took my find to the Houston Writer’s Guild conference and proudly showed it off to my friends who love this kind of accessory. I usually have a smaller purse. It was there at the conference the trouble began. It’s as if I’ve suddenly sprouted wings, or a much larger behind. I couldn’t calculate the width of openings. I’d step through, my purse wouldn’t come with me. I jerked my shoulder out of sync a couple of times extricating myself from the car, or the bathroom stall. I would sail through a place only to be hauled up short for those few seconds it took for the purse to catch up. Though this purse is gorgeous, I shall remain evermore the dinky purse sort.
The conference went well. I thank all those who put a lot of elbow grease toward such a successful weekend. Whatever you did. It worked.
There were a few glitches. At lunch Saturday in the hotel lobby restaurant, we never got our food. The restaurant emptied of people and we were sitting at our table.
Then there was the other small glitch. What is that smell? Incense? Why would anyone be burning incense in such excessive amounts. I could see the smoke in the hall. Wait, what’s that other smell? Hmmm. This was apparently not contained to just my floor of the hotel. It was on several floors, all throughout the night. I went to report it to the front desk. That’s right. I’m the spoil-sport! As I approached, the front desk person looked down and drawled “what up?” Really? This is what you say to someone you don’t know? At work? When I told him about the marijuana, he smirked. Seriously? Yep.
Ah well, the rest of everything was very good. Thank you, kind readers for taking the time to read!