Mr. B and the Blonde

I went to bed at 11:00 or so last night. Got up at 3:30 so I could get on the road by 4:30 and get to work by 8:00 (made it in plenty of time). But I am TIRED.

There's an irrefutable law of nature - do not mess with a tired blonde.

Before I went to lunch one of the brokers went out to the mail box and brought the mail in. Small stack, I figured I'd get to in a bit (I was reading BLOGs... hello... priorities). Right before I went to lunch I looked at the envelope on the top of the pile, glancing at the return address. And then I did a double take... and a triple take. It was MY address. My HOME address. Then I look at who it's addressed to, and it's addressed to me. Now, I know I may be forgetful at times but I'm pretty sure I would remember sending myself a letter. And why would I do that?? And when did my handwriting change? It was literally probably a good 45 seconds before it finally dawned on me. That's Mr.B's handwriting. I was still was a little baffled how I managed to copy his handwriting. Then the clouds FINALLY parted at the sun began to shine and angels began singing - I realized HE had sent me the card!! Good LORD was I CONFUSED. I called him at lunch and expressed this new law of nature and why it had come about and he laughed and laughed and laughed.

For the record - the card has a fuzzy duck on it, and he sent it before I left here on Wednesday, and it was thanking me for the wonderful time.