Freaky Friday

My life is pretty weird most of the time.  There are rarely days that something odd doesn't happen, but I've really been upping my game this week.  If this was the Truman Show, this could have been Sweeps Week programming.  Good stuff left and right.  Let's go back and take a look at some of the best/strangest things this week had to offer.

Wednesday

I should have known this day was off to a bizarre start when I found my watch packed in a box of kitchen knives.  Also found in the box: a rug , one hand towel and Husband's ties.  It was a good reflection of the progression of my packing strategy.  I was off to a strong start; everything was super organized. But as time went on and we were working against the clock, it became a fire sale.  Everything must go!

Later that morning, I received a Linked In request.  As I am accepting said request, I take a gander at who has been perusing my profile.  And what do you know, but a Private Investigator had been checking out what Kathy brings to the professional table.  I mean...this isn't a good sign right?  Why is a PI looking me up?  Am I under investigation?  And how bad is this guy at his job?  Aren't PIs supposed to fly under the radar?  In all seriousness, I'm concerned that this guy is on my tail.  Nothing good could come of this.  Unless he offers to help us unpack, then I'm totally cool with it.

Thursday

After competing in an adult spelling bee, I returned home to find a small flood in our new laundry room.  Also found in the laundry room was an angry husband yelling about not being able to find towels.  I started laughing and couldn't stop, which surprisingly didn't help the situation.  It was time to make an emergency run to Wal Mart.

As I waited to check out, I watched as the middle-aged man in front of me bought $172 worth of women's underwear and bikinis.  He was wearing an Elmer Fudd-like winter hat and paid in cash.  I felt uncomfortable about his purchase.  I had full intentions of commenting to the cashier about how strange that whole transaction was, but I didn't get a chance.  Because the cashier wanted to tell me about how the Vikings think of Hell as being cold.  It was unprovoked commentary.  It is still unclear to me if I had actually entered an alternate universe when I walked through those automatic doors.

Thursday Night/Friday Morning

I dreamt that the teeth of my comb were falling out.  I've read before that when you dream that your actual teeth are falling out, it means you are embarrassed about something.  I'm not sure of the meaning of your comb falling apart, but I'm almost sure it relates back to the private investigator.  Or maybe my subconscious is concerned about split ends, which if that's the case, my subconscious is totally shallow.

So those are the highlights.  I'm going to throw in another weird, wacky scenario.  Are you ready?

OSU will beat KU tomorrow.  Bill Self will get a technical.  We'll have four players in double figures, and Phil Forte will have at least four 3s.  I will come close to blacking out from yelling so loudly.  Immediately following the game, it will be announced that I have been named to a high-level government position.  After a thorough background check, including Linked In snooping, it was determined that I would make a perfect US Ambassador to...Italy! And I am to move to Lake Como and become roommates with George Clooney immediately.

Okay, okay.  Probably only one of those things will happen tomorrow.  It is also possible I will learn that dreams about broken combs represent delusions of grandeur.

Go Pokes!