The easy explanation for getting out is that the weather was finally good.
And it’s true. At this time of year, there’s usually not a lot of day left when I get home from work, and cold, snow and rain on the weekends aren’t much motivation to get out.
So when temperatures push 60 in one of those classic New England false spring days, it’s a great chance to take a walk and get some fresh air.
And even though they’re inside, why not go out for lunch instead of takeout for dinner and then hit the bookstore afterward, even if I’m not necessarily looking for any new books?
When you finally feel like getting out, might as well make it last, even if it means aimlessly scanning the stacks of books around the store, right?
By the way, based on the number of cars in the parking lots, we weren’t the only ones looking to bust out of the house.
But this wasn’t just about escaping the four walls, not after a work week with some serious mind-bending, brain-breaking stuff. Give me a chance to go somewhere and think about anything else? Sign me up.
Could you just … not?
When I get my hair cut, I’m generally as talkative as the woman cutting my hair.
If she doesn’t feel like talking, I’m perfectly happy sitting in silence, given that I’d prefer she concentrate on not butchering my hair or slicing me up with the sharp objects she’s wielding around my face.
But the people next to meet decided to combine the worst of both worlds, chatting about various nicks they’ve seen at the salon over the years, complete with bleeding.
I’m glad I wasn’t in a cardiologist’s office.
Who says romance is dead?
Seen on a Valentine’s Day card … “You’re like free grocery delivery … I’m honestly not sure how I used to get by without you.”
Let the record show this is NOT the card I bought.
Get down with your bad self
I was sitting at a four-way stop sign when the car to my right turned left, roaring past me in what I’m sure the owner would call an SUV but looked more like a tricked-out minivan.
Because some people are always measuring … .
Stuff I read
In spite of some of the pithy observations above, the brain didn’t find anything to write about this week at any length — and not just because of the mind-bending referenced above — so we move on.
Graham turned 50. So this is what I have to look forward to.
Kat is worried about a virus. No … not that one. (Or maybe that one, too, but that’s not the one she’s writing about.)
Renata has TV show recommendations.
Among other things, Jeff wonders if napping is “legitimate” physical exercise. If so, I’d be in much better shape.
Emily read about redecorating, and apparently the message was “You’re doing it all wrong.”
Rosie struggles to get out of her own way.
One of Pepper’s tweets got a lot more attention than normal. She learned a few things from it.
Fran has some very specific Valentine’s Day advice.
If you’re mad at your liver, may I suggest Becky’s Super Bowl drinking game?
I am quite curious where Austin will go from here.
Savannah and Chad made their first visit to what will soon be their new home.
Giggles has a problem with guys disappearing on her, although at least one of them was clearly no great loss.
Ally did not have a good morning.
Michelle would like to clear up some misperceptions about depression.
River says no to this gift idea.
Bosssybabe got right to the point with one of my least-favorite questions, and it worked for her.
On the 11th day, Jackie in Italy finally got to leave the house.
Tweets I liked
There is never a circumstance that doesn’t deserve ice cream.
“But before we tell you about that, let’s talk about the snowstorm that could come in five days, or might not.”
I know I am.
Bad … that way I can end on a good note.
While I’m sure the good folks in New Zealand appreciate the offer, if you need the big guns to clear out a crowd, everyone knows you break out the Coldplay.
Of course. Look at her … she’s ferocious!