Maybe it was the waterboarding. Maybe it was the insanity caused by two boys overcompensating for their missing older brother with too much extra drama and energy. Maybe it was that Mike was out of town and so all the extra kid stuff was all on me and oh, I don’t know.
For whatever reason it seemed a good time to have a glass of wine after the kids went to bed. Even though I never do that. Even though I really don’t even like wine because it tastes fruity and I don’t like fruit.
Maybe because I don’t drink, I’m really quite bad at it.
All was okay at first. I got started on the novel that’s been swimming around in my head ever since the day I suddenly realized I KNEW why women sometimes fall in love with scary, mass-murderer death-row convicts they’ve never met. Seriously. I KNOW why.* (No, I won’t tell you. Yet.) Haven’t you always wondered, though? The day I figured this out, it instantly became a scene in a future fictitious piece that finally started coming together last night between sips of pinot grigio.
The writing went really well. When finished, I should have turned off my computer. Instead, I shopped. I am NEVER allowed to drink a glass of wine and then online shop again.
Apparently that’s all it takes for my latent desires to buy very trashy lingerie to come out, full force. (I didn’t even know I had those.) Sexy lingerie, sure. No problem, bring it on, and let’s buy in bulk because you can never have enough. That’s one thing. This is oh-so-very-much-another thing.
This morning I checked my confirmation email from the website to see exactly what it was I’d purchased. I could only sorta remember, and what I was remembering seemed a bit… unlikely. I was probably remembering wrong. And then I made a loud, horrified squawky sound when I saw the photo of electric blue satin-y trashiness with a uniquely placed lace-up detail. Classy.
I clicked away from the email quickly and thought, I am teaching the 3 yr old class in CHURCH on Sunday. About JESUS. And I’m feeling REAL CONFLICTED since it seems I got drunk and bought hooker panties. Sunday School teachers do not DO that.
I absolutely cannot remember what I was thinking or why it seemed like a decent buying decision at the time. Surely I had a reason.
Anyway. I’m done. Interesting experiment, less than positive results. I’m back to Diet Coke.
*I’m not looking for a lover on death row. In case that isn’t clear. There’s trashy and then there’s TRASHY and I’m fairly certain that I can’t be quite that far gone, even if I have more than one glass of wine. Not that I’m finding out.