I had a newspaper columnist lover who wrote at home. He had a wooden floor and original 78s of folks like Nat King Cole. He would lend me his spare room and I would dance for hours. I miss him.
I ran my second husband over with a Volkswagen feeling this way. Hubby saw the look on my face and his face turned white. I floored it. He knew there was no way to outrun me and he looked around frantically for a savior. He saw a small wide ditch and dived for it. My wheels ran right the fuck over him. By the time I got ready for the second pass, he had made it to the house.
God saved me. Always had a soft spot for God after that. My child did not need to have a Mother in jail. Hubby stayed with me another 10 years. I often wonder who exactly was the crazy one? The whole thing was so sad.
So, all I have to say is, talk me down, Friends. I am lonesome, horny, maudlin and dangerous. Okay, Ativan kicking in. I will be napping in blessed peace and not stabbing anyone. Good thing. Be back later.