Well I didn't end up getting any sleep since I passed out writing that last blog. I went outside to have a smoke..er..I mean to ...yeah to smoke...before I crawled into my big unmade pile of clothes that has overtaken my bed...and the neighbor called me over to try one of her newly grown veggies. We had never talked before, but she is really cool. She is about my age (someone I can go run and play with in the neighborhood) and we are both testing fate by trying to grow things for the first time. She gave me a few bean plants, and a tomato plant and the neighbor on the other side gave me what he thinks might be a cucumber plant. Or a pumpkin. Thats when it hit me. I'm becoming my mother! Except my breasts are much smaller and I don't daisy duke shorts. (I know! It's like MOM it's not 1982 or 1993 and I don't want to see that. but hey...if you got it flaunt it).
Just as I was about to bitch about how I'm becoming my Mother...I realized I don't hate it. As long as it just pertains to the gardening and talking over the fence to the awesome neighbors. As long as I don't start getting lost in political conversations and start reading a few romance novels a day It's all good. But come to think of it, maybe all those soft core porn novels she always have her nose in have something to do with those embarrassingly loud orgasm like noises that I always dreaded coming from her room when someone stayed the night. I think I'm off to water my plants and start the new Nora Robers book. ....nah!