A couple of weeks ago, a colleague at Petite School invited me to a little get-together she was going to have. She called it "brunch," so I was a little confused by the 3:00 start time mentioned in her email, but I put it on my calendar and looked forward to spending some time with my very nice colleagues, out of a school setting.
Last night, I put together a gorgeous fruit tray of grapes, blackberries, strawberries, and raspberries. Gorgeous colors, fresh fruit. I stuck it in the fridge.
This morning was busy--I cleaned my room and my bathroom, did some laundry, went for a two-mile run. I came home and showered, then sat down to do some work on the computer before going to the get-together. I checked my school email one more time to confirm her address.
To my dismay, I read that the party was from noon to 3:00.
It was 1:30 by now. I had wet hair, and I was sitting around in my pajamas. To get ready, then drive 40 minutes or so to her place in Elk Grove, would mean arriving a whole 30 minutes before the end of the party. So I sent an email off, apologizing (knowing my colleague, she'll probably have a good laugh, and I don't blame her).
Then I pulled my fruit plate out of the fridge and dug in.
This, my friends, is what happens sometimes when you're me.
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