PJs and Plumbing
My cantankerous and oddly lovable plumber is here, and I was missing a part. The guy back at Expo said he couldn't sell me the part because I didn't know the size, and after he hit the roof, the plumber told me to run (now! right now!) to the hardware store and get it. Since he charges more than my lawyer, I tore out of the house like a bat out of hell. It was only when I got to the Hardware store that I realized I was still in my pajamas.
So, there I am, in pjs, breasts flapping around (who wears a bra to bed?), my hair looking like I brushed it with the electric mixer, my breath redolent of coffee and other more horrifying things. And there was a line in the store.
Next time I moan about my book sales, remind me please that there are reasons to be very happy that I'm not famous.