Suzanne is leaving this morning to go cabin-camping with her Champagne Garden Club for four days, which means Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are free to do some scampin’. Of course, exactly how much scampin’ we accomplish depends on my energy level. But we’re ready, and I’m attempting to consolidate all the oomph I can gather. Clearly, Bow Tie and my Shirt o’ the Day have energetic clash going on. Perhaps I can feed off that.
When you’re dressing up in clashiness, not only are you making a loud choice of your attire, you are saying to everyone who sees you, “Out of all the clothes in my closet and drawers, this is the ensemble I chose to put together just for you. Today, I chose to show this version of me to the outside world. Please enjoy my outfit being original enough to get in your face, in all its non-matchy color and dapper-osity.”
At the cabin the Champagne Garden Club Girls will inhabit, there is no cell service, which means Suzanne can’t check on me. She won’t be able to get a daily report of my healing and/or not-healing. I told her I will follow the rules for my continued recovery. But when I told her I’d follow those rules, I crossed what’s left of my pancreas, and I didn’t use the word “promise” when I said it. I figure that gives me a bit of leeway in my behavior while she’s gone.
With no communication possible between us, she won’t have a clue in the world as to the things I’ll really be doing. But I tend to feel guilty when I don’t come clean about performing my inadvisable antics– or even advisable antics. So when she gets home, I’ll tell her everything. I’m a dope that way. I’ll take whatever lectures and punishment I deserve.
I’m completely transparent about my doings, to the point of ridiculousness. Out of my mouth comes every teeny and bigly detail of my existence. Suzanne, on the other hand, doesn’t tell me a fragment of what goes on at the annual cabin get-away. You know– what happens at the cabin, stays at the cabin. What occurs there is on a need-to-know basis. That sort of thing. And I’m sure that’s a good policy. At least it’s a good policy for Suzanne. So far, I’m the only one who ever gets in trouble when she’s at the cabin.