But, just in case, I took notes this week. Every time someone (usually my husband, Dan) looked at me like I was strange, rolled their eyes and sighed, or laughed at something I said, I wrote it down.
Here are the top five.
"This is a Burlesque dance. I’m basically learning how to be a stripper right now."
I yelled this at Dan while playing Zumba World Party on the Wii U. I have officially turned into the middle-aged neighbor lady who dances provocatively in her living room with the windows open (with or without a glass of wine in her hand).
"Dan, I need your help! I’m not coping well, even though I just told my insurance I do!"
Moments before, I had taken a personal health assessment for my insurance. I had marked "excellent" at coping with stress. Then I closed the laptop, walked into the bedroom, and exclaimed the above statement.
"I'm going to church. I've got to quit saying the F-word."
It was Sunday morning, and I had just read yet another #facepalm news story regarding Trump.
Enough said.
Speaking of the F-word . . .
"Kanye doesn't even swear on this album! What is Kanye without the F-word?"
This was in response to Kanye's new "I just found Jesus" album that dropped this week.
I was climbing into a crate at the theater the other day, in an attempt to help sort set pieces.
"It's taking me a while to get my leg over this crate. Forty-two-year-old problems," I said.
"You're forty-two?" one of my theater friends asked. "I thought you were in your thirties."
"Just kidding . . . Yeah, I'm in my thirties . . ."
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