Flavor of the Month

I can't think of anything I hate more than running into people I haven't seen in awhile. 

There is no way to avoid them asking, "What have you been up to?" and then having to make the hard choice between lying through my teeth or telling them my life is made up of a continuous string of monotonous events that, strung together, make it appear I'm a living, breathing Ken Burns movie.

And if I do chose to lie, there is that fine line between, "interesting adventures!" and "that is just you recapping an episode of Highlander but replacing the Highlander with yourself."

THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE.

Which is why I'm instituting a 30 day rule. 

If I haven't spoken to you in 30 days, you are out of my life forever. Don't think I am serious?  Just ask that guy behind the counter at Chipotle who forgot to put double meat on my burrito.  Now I won't even look him in the eye.  Mostly because of shame, but, also because of anger.

So if I don't speak to you for 30 days your number will be deleted, your pictures taken off of my Facebook and if I see you in the street, I'm going to just look the other way.

Besides, Old Lady, I don't think I ever knew anyone named, "Grandma."