Melissa is one of the most generous people I know, and one of the things that she does that is totally crazy is pretend that family photos are a decent swap for time on her long arm quilting machine. And I am in love with that thing. I quilted two baby quilts this morning in the time it would have taken me to just pin baste them. It’s amazing. I even would have made it to drop Ellie off to preschool on time had I not gotten up to all sorts of adventures on the way over including pulling myself over because I thought I’d been caught speeding.
I haven’t had a working speedometer in my car in like two years. Because there are apps for that. (When you remember to use them.) So when I was cruising down the road getting my Taylor Swift on and saw a cop, I looked down and I was going 180 mph according to my speedometer (this is also how fast my car thinks it’s going right now, as it is parked outside my house). Her flashy blue lights were on. “ARGH.” I thought. (Or something with more swear words.) So I pulled over. She was taking her sweet time following me, so I bent down to get my wallet and find my insurance info. I looked up because she was pulled alongside me. “Is everything okay?” she asked. Oops. “Yes,” I said. “I just wasn’t watching my speed so I thought I was going to get pulled over.” She laughed at me. “Nope–you’re okay,” she said.
I think I’m an excellent candidate for a fascist state. I always assume I’m guilty.
