A colleague recently described how she was sitting in bed one night thinking about some painting she had done recently with her husband.
After a few seconds of listening to her story, I realized she was talking about painting a room, not a date where you go and paint a landscape, or portrait, or something else in an attempt to approximate art.
I laughed and cut into her story explaining that it had taken me a while to figure out she wasn’t talking about a couples activity.
One of the guys chimed in from the corner of the room, “I want your life.”
Her: She blinded me with kindness.
Me: Do you mean, “She blinded me with science”?
Her: Oh, yeah. That.
My memory of men is never lit up and illuminated like my memory of women.
I love that you had a corkscrew in your purse.