Beach house


Note to┬áperson behind me now in 20th minute of phone conversation about the beach house you’ve put a contract on:* Maybe your mom cares about the number of rooms, income potential, appraisal, Zillow, etc., etc. I’m not your mom.

Time for Pentatonix headphone therapy.**

*Do not annoy me about ending a sentence with a preposition. If it was good enough for Winston Churchill, it’s good enough for me.

**Yeah, I know. I should have done that at the four-minute mark.



The ceiling leaked, it seemed like everyone on the Beltway was driving on Valium, it took two hours to book a pianist for a gig, and I forgot to send out a contract. Yet, I sit here writing, peaceful and centered. The power of iced lattes and chocolate chip cookies once again proven.*

*I have no idea if that’s grammatically correct. Also, I don’t care.

When will it stop raining?


There is a website with a minute by minute forecast re rain and the severity & presence thereof. In exactly 22 minutes I will be able to put away my computer and sprint to my car without drowning. This gives me approximately 20 minutes to finish my brownie.* Isn’t modern technology wonderful?**

*Not that you should care.

**This is rhetorical. You don’t have to decide.