Email conversation yesterday
Him: I’m headed to the store. Do you need anything?
Me: Yes! I need sparkly shoes, some dress pants and a tiara. And a dSLR camera and a Macintosh computer. Oh and a Tylenol because my neck hurts.
Him: One Tylenol, coming up.
He’s funny, that one. And speaking of dress pants, what happened to the word slacks? You just don’t hear it much anymore. Or at all, unless you spend a lot of time with folks who remember hearing the news live on the radio that Pearl Harbor had been bombed.
I’m not even sure if slacks are different than dress pants. I should look up the definition of slacks, I suppose, but I’m supposed to be working on my Nano novel right now, instead of having this conversation with you. I think what I’m going to have to do is work this entire post into the novel. That’s the only way to make everyone happy. Luckily, that won’t be too difficult because as of this moment, 2400 or so words in, my novel is about a compulsive shopper. So actually the entire conversation is appropriate. It’s just that my compulsive shopper (who I believe I will be naming Olivia (or Liv to her friends) would actually buy those items. I didn’t even end up with a Tylenol.