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Mr. Vanderbilt is off to be smart sometime soon at a conference, and I am going to be all alone for the better part of a week.
If I were cool, I would spend the week being a single woman for the first time in three and a half years. He’s never left me alone for more than a weekend. Probably scared of what I might do to redecorate the house or that I might dye my hair purple with green highlights.
If I were cool, I’d call up my friends and insist they go out with me to someplace really cool downtown. I’d wear high heels and designer jeans and sparkly shirts, and not care that I had to be at work at 7:30 the next morning. (Ignoring the fact I can’t wear any heel without being in writhing pain due to my bad ankle sprain last January.)
I am so not cool.
My big plans are cleaning out our guest room if I can find the energy, and sleeping a lot. Volunteering extra days so I won’t be too lonely. Eating Spaghetti-Os.
I am sure you are so insanely jealous.