Is it wrong to feel relief when a trip through my blogroll yields no new titles for my TBR list? The list is already soooooo long.
And this tangent thought is going to sound just awful, but every once in awhile, I actually think--just for a second--that a hysterectomy might be a preferable alternative to embolization (uterine fibroids). Only because I'd have six weeks of recovery time to blast through that TBR list. Gasp. Terrible thought, eh? When I've done nothing but research and lobby my doctor for the keep-all-your-hormonal-parts embolization option that features far, far less recovery time. Ah well.
I am reading, so not all is lost yet. I finished my ARC of Virtually Hers by Gennita Low--a genuine, PR-be-damned F'ing Fabulous review is forthcoming. Will likely be one of my 09 Wow reads. I also read Elisabeth Naughton's Stolen Fury--good read but I must say that if I had read it piecemeal, I would not have enjoyed it nearly as much. Not sure it would have held my extended interest. As it turned out, I was left all by myself for six hours, with nothing to do but read--so I enjoyed this book in one sitting.
Followed that one with Cindy Gerard's Show No Mercy. Another good one and I'm looking forward to the next in this series when I am back in the RS mood. For now, I've reverted to historical again--reading Scandal by Carolyn Jewel. Unfortunately, my lunch hours have been booked, my weekend action-filled and my nights spent propping up a wheezing, coughing, allergy-suffering boy who can only find sleep sitting up. So I'm maybe 50 pages into it after 5 days. Feels dark so far, which is right up my alley.
Speaking of dark and alleys, I had a downright fearful few moments at the quarter car wash yesterday. Here, in my safe, rural small town. I'm still feeling angry and unsettled. In a nutshell, left work, picked up my son, stopped at the car wash to remove dirtbike track dust and grime from my new, gently used truck (yay for me on that part). As I pulled in, a guy pulling a trailer was pulling out. G and I washed our truck and pulled it around to the vacuum cleaners. G is using the chamois to dry the truck while I vacuum. Suddenly, this guy is standing right there with my son, vacuum machine blasting out all sound. He shouts to me, asks me if I have a cell phone cuz he locked his keys in his truck. Sure, I hand him my phone. Look over to the car wash stalls and see the same trailer I saw leave earlier. So it's the same guy, back again. Why would that be I wonder. I move G to my side and around to the other side of our truck. One eye on the guy, one eye on my surroundings, vacuuming blindly. Interesting, the guy is standing a foot from the vacuum machine talking on my cell phone. No way in hell he can hear even himself. Sees me watching him and he steps away from the machine and starts talking more loudly. And in the next second, smiles, walks my phone over and takes off on foot, presumably to meet someone bringing him spare keys. Needless to say we left immediately.
And I wondered throughout the evening what kind of info he could have taken off my phone and whether or not he used it to make a drug deal and I'll be visited by cops soon. Vivid imagination to go with my anger and a jarring reminder to keep my guard up, always. Jerk. Pretty sure I won't be taking G with me again.
Of course, as dirty as he gets on the dirtbike track, maybe I should use the quarter car wash sprayer on him. Cool shot, eh? Found this in my email inbox this morning--taken and sent by a friend from the track. G is going to love it cuz it's proof that he "got air." LOL