20 Questions at Christmas

The funny thing about writing a blog every day is that it's an accurate snapshot of how I'm feeling -- at that moment. And you get to watch it all change. Daily.

Maybe I reacted too soon to the "I want to stay home, I hate Mondays" vibe I was feeling. I mean, I still hate Mondays. But maybe more at-home time isn't what I need.

I got a fax today from someone in California. Had a little interesting tidbit of information in it: out of 2,678 singles surveyed, 44 percent expect to be asked about their love lives at least five times over the holiday season.

Dang.

I'm technically only quasi-single; that is, I'm engaged, and therefore am not shopping around. But I still have enough "quasi" in me to appreciate that there won't be time for me to fall into that 44 percent, otherwise known as "The Questionables."

No, sir. Ma'am. I'll be in and out, no time for small talk, no time to be cornered by the people back home with the million questions (you know, the one who asks you questions when you're waiting in line for the bathroom, or in the food line, and even though silence would be more comfortable, they JUST keep asking questions? I tend to get really excited about whatever it is we're doing, to divert the conversation from me to the situation, but it's useless).

It wasn't the relationships that I didn't like playing 20 Questions with, it was the jobs; school. "How's the job hunt?" "How's school going?" "Studying hard or hardly studying?" (Oh, people are sooo funny.) I got a job. I'm done with school. So does that mean I'll be the one asking younger people questions? Or am I going to get asked about something else?

Time would have told but, dang, I don't think I'll be hanging around the punch bowl long enough for anyone to ask. Shucks.