the plan

Petty as it may sound, I've figured out how I am going to prevent myself from feeling any jealousy, stress, angst or whatever may come this weekend.

I may not keep our apt the cleanest, I may not cook every night, I may not wash Tom's shoes for him, but damn it, this weekend none of that is going to matter, even if it is true.

Why? 'Cause I'm going to look hot.

That's right. I'm going to shave my legs and my pits, find a strapless bra that will support my gravity-smitten mammaries and don a dress and some heels for the Easter celebration of sit-and-talk. So even if I can't understand 90% of what is being said, and have nothing really to say myself, at least I'll look good while I'm sitting silently by and tending to LB.

Boo-ya!