Two Chili Dog Night

A rainy day in the garden

 Back when I was in college ~ whenever I was having one of those bad, awful, couldn't get more horrid Mondays ~ I'd drag my sorry feet over to the University Student Union, where they served the most decadent chili dogs one could ever hope for.

Friends knew to stay outta my way, when I was hoisting a tray, carrying two of those goodies. Because that could only mean one thing: life has gone to hell and, nothing - save for a 2 chili dog night - could work it's magic and make me smile.

Age puts everything into perspective. Back then, those gigantic problems were downright tiny. (Example: I can't believe he didn't ask me out!  :)

These days, chili dogs are off the menu entirely. Ever since my metabolism went awol, just fantasizing about a chili dog, with all those glorious toppings, causes me to gain a pound, or two.

AND, today's pesky problems are considerably more gargantuan.

It is my Monday, in that it is Tuesday after a delicious Labor Day weekend and all was right with the world. Right up until 5 minutes after I climbed out of bed.

My business partner and I were laughing about that early this morning. You see, we had the bright idea to start our own business because why should we have to answer to the man?

Except now that 'man' is me. Or, her. And, today, when life felt like a sweater unraveling, we were thinking that maybe that's why 'the man' ~ aka the grumpy boss ~ is just that: grumpy. 'Cause he's the one making phone call, after phone call, apologizing for a problem completely out of our control.

Ah, well. In the words of Scarlet O'Hara, tomorrow IS another day.

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