There were a few things I wanted to write about today.
I was going to write about how terrified I am of dancing...
I was going to write about a dream I had this morning, wherein Vicky found a knife sticking out of my chest...
I was going to write about the invention of the urinal and how its name came about...
But you're going to miss out on all of that.
Vicky and I had a conversation today. When we talk, we never know where we're going and, very often, our subconscious minds take over and steer us in directions that are, in the least, frightening.
Such was the case today.
Vicky had called me to tell me what her mother had said to her.
"You want to get married in the fall," Vicky said in a voice a lot like Godzilla's, which was supposed to be her mom's. "That's too long to wait. Why not spring?"
"It can't be spring," I said.
"I like the fall."
"Well, maybe it can be spring but, at the very least, it can't be May." We know what happens when I get married in May.
"No," she said. "Fall's good."
"It would have to be early fall. It can't be October - that's my birthday. It can't be November - that's Thanksgiving. It can't be December - that's Christmas. It can't be January - that's New Years. It can't be February - that's Valentine's day. And it can't be March - that's not even close to fall! It would have to be September."
"You know how hot it is in September," she asked.
"Make it late September, then. What's the last weekend in September?"
She looked it up. "The 24th and 25th."
And I spoke without even thinking. "Well, then, how about the 25th? No, wait. Sunday weddings are no fun; everybody has to go to work the next day. So, the 24th of September, we - OH, MY GOD!" I just realized what I'd said. "Do you realize what we just did?! We set a date!!!!"
Just think about all those who stopped reading this because they found it predictable...