Last night during a reprieve from coughing and blowing my nose, I dreamed that I was eating spaghetti. I took a big bite, and chomped down on a cough drop. Ewww! For the rest of the night I dreamed or thought about how disgusting that would be. Tomato sauce with a hint of "Vapor Action." Even now I shudder in revulsion.
And of course I had to share my revulsion with all my readers because that's me. If you met me in person you would quickly realize that not only do I not have a filter for things I say, but that I think that all the things I'm thinking about are fascinating. I over share. Just a tad.
Once, when I was doing the sermon on Youth Sunday (boy those folks LOVED me - I was the soul of brevity, so no problem at all with getting out of church in time to beat the lunch crowd), I may have mentioned that our family sometimes skipped church because we were tired. And that on those days my parents had us read a story out of the Children's Bible. Afterward, my dad said that people liked a woman of mystery. That I did not need to share everything that was in my head. Really.
And now I feel like I've shared that story on here already. But my cold is keeping me from caring enough to go back and look.
Anyway, the point is that I had to tell you the spaghetti and cough drop story. Because, Woman of Mystery? Is not me.
Hmmm - you know what I'm really craving for dinner tonight?
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