Five!  Get your blog number five here!  Can’t watch the Wyoming Wildcats beat the Nevada Nymphs without a blog number five!  Only five dollars for all the insider fives about five and his five fives!  Have I mentioned the number five yet?

I fell asleep last night sweating over the fact that I didn’t have an idea for today’s blog.  I’ve already ranted the rants and humored the jokes that I had jotted down through November.  I feared this would be the day that I just gave up, walked away from my self-assigned Hanukkah challenge and said, “Just fuck it all!  My hordes of readers (what, maybe 9 of you now?) can just go buy themselves a pack of mechanical pencils and say it’s a Hanukkah gift from me.”

That all changed when I was awakened this morning by someone trying to come into my front door.

Let me set the scene:  This is my day off of work, but seeing as how I need extra cash for food and power and whatever I had scheduled a tutoring session with a college gal who needs help passing a math course.  I was going to wake up at 9, shower, and head out to meet her at 10.  But at 8:30 she called to tell me she was sick and rescheduled.  Blessed gifts, I got to sleep in longer!  So off went my alarm and back I went to an odd dream about me being a female guard at a prison that had just been overrun by its inmates and I had to ninja style my way onto the roof while being shot at by lasers and dodging exploding mines until I got into a vent, where…

Okay, I’m getting a little far afield here.  Back to my point.

At 11:00, I was awakened by the sound of my front door handle being unlocked.  I should note, currently my bed is in the living room as we have no couch and like to have somewhere to lie down to watch movies.  My first thought was, “Either this is the most polite burglar in the world, as he’s gingerly trying to pick my lock instead of just busting in… or this is my brother-in-law having issues with the spare key he has.”  My second thought was, “I really wish he had texted or called that he was coming over, because now I’m lying in bed completely naked.”

Yea, I sleep in the nude.  Don’t try to tell me you’re shocked.  And pictures will cost you $4.99… $10.99 if you want morning-wood.

So as he continues to fiddle with my door lock, which currently holds the Guiness World Record for being the “Most Stuck Lock and Deadbolt Set in the World and Only Incredibly Strong Individuals Can Unlock It,” I have a choice to make.  I can lie in bed naked, wait until he comes in, and then tell him I’m still naked and he should’ve called, OR I could chance making a sprint towards the bedroom buck naked to get dressed and hope he doesn’t make it inside to see my streaking white ass.

I take option one.  He comes in, says he’s here to take away the old mattress he had left here upon moving out, and it’s “Reverse Christmas” for me.  I reply, “That’s great.  Next time text or call first, because I’m still buck naked.”  He laughs, goes outside, and I rush to the bathroom to shower and dress.

You may wonder what about this story just screamed, “Blog me!”  Besides its humor, it was a great example of how everyday life has moments of joy that we may not remember next week, or the next month.  I certainly won’t recall this story when I’m 85 and trying to eke out a few more years of happiness by hitting on the nurses at the home in which I’m stuck.  But it made today joyful.  These moments are all around us and sometimes it’s important to try and remember that, even if we don’t remember the specifics, life is often a wondrous sit-com where we get to be the stars.

Whether it’s your brother-in-law walking into your house while you’re naked, or how he then tried to steal a Bic pen from the garbage dump… or how your wife geeked out by sending an email about some Star Wars designed dresses that she really wants to try on (one of them has lightsabers and the other has a cape and Vader’s face on the boob)… or how the business you use to send packages to Nebraska updated their computers and deleted the address, so you had to drive back home to get the address, except you actually recalled it from memory halfway home, so turned around and then paid more for the shipping of the gifts than you acutally spent on the gifts themselves… it’s the little stories that often fade that make life a hoot.

And seriously… call or text before walking into someone’s home.  Otherwise you’re just creepy.

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