For me, a trip to the big city is an all-day affair. Spending five hours on the road driving. Leaving early and getting back home at the very end of the day. Exhausted and with a scary balance in my bank account.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, my husband and I make the trip together because for the time and expense involved, it only makes sense that we both shop for the items on our respective lists and come home with a full truck load.
But right now, I need to make a solo trip. I need to spend some time looking, thinking, having the whole day to make some intelligent decisions on several purchases. I also need (like I really NEEEED) a couple of new bras. I don't mean to inflict too many intimate details on you here, but my body seems to be changing (okay, so I have put on a little extra weight), and I know I'll have to spend who-knows-how-long in the dressing room trying on one undergarment after another before finding one that actually fits. (Do males have ANY article of clothing that gives them this much hassle and consternation??)
Sorry, I got off-track. The point I'm trying to make is that leaving home is not something I want to do.
For several weeks now at the beginning of each week, I've made the decision that I will gear up and go to the city shopping on, say, Tuesday. Monday night comes and I realize I can't go Tuesday because there's something that's time-sensitive I simply must get done on the homestead. Okay, I'll go Thursday. Nope, can't go Thursday because such-and-so is happening on Friday so I need to get ready for that. On and on it goes, week after week.
Bottom line, I have so much to do here at home that I don't want to leave, even for a day. And that's a good thing, because I'm happy here. For that, I should be very grateful. What could possibly be better than to feel you could be happy and content living forever on your own little homestead which is a sanctuary in this crazy world? So you see, I have no desire to leave.
Well, except for that bra issue . . .
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