A friend of mine shared her biggest fear with me the other night. She’s not terrified of mice like I am, or even crow’s feet like the rest of women. Nope. She’s afraid of getting stuck somewhere and not having anyone around to help her.
I live alone with a pug. Daisy has one freaking eye so it’s not like she’s Lassie. If I got stuck and couldn’t reach my phone I’d be a goner. And just like that getting stuck is now one of my fears.
I voiced this fear to another friend who reminded me I have a zillion brothers that would find and save me. Hardly. Those boys are lazy asses. They’d take my silence as their own personal vacation. After thinking about the problem for a few minutes I realized I wouldn’t ever get stuck in my apartment and die. I could easily use the gay husband signal as a beacon to alert RLO that I needed to be saved. Super RLO looks hot in tights, plus he’s a biker so super comfy in spandex.
I’m going to practice the method by getting stuck on my way to the pub. It’s really the best way to get some quality BFF time in. Plus I’m really hungry for a good pub dinner.