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A marshmallow day in the life of Holly Pasut

Stuffing a marshmallow in a parking meter is like saying: whatever you do, it’s just not working. I posted this little fav of mine the other day and got a few laughs and thumbs up of understanding. However, the rest of the week has not been too much different. How about yours?

As I diligently continued to practice my presentation for the upcoming 2018 North Carolina Real Estate Expo & Convention, I also kept a watch on Hurricane Florence. Why? Because the event was scheduled at the Wilmington Convention Center. #YIKES If you have watched, listened, or read the news lately (other than NIKE or Trump), you may know Hurricane Florence is expected to make an unwelcomed appearance in Wilmington, North Carolina. The residents have been ordered a mandatory evacuation. Needless to say, the 2018 North Carolina Real Estate Expo & Convention at the Wilmington Convention Center has been canceled. Now what?

If preparing for a speech wasn’t enough for me to do, I decided to sell my townhome at the same time. Why be boring? The offer came and … poof, I’m not sure what is going on. The contract is awaiting a signature from the buyer. It’s lingering in cyberspace. I wait, not sure I can say patiently, though.

Fever, chills, cough, and what the heck is going on? I rarely get sick and there is never an appropriate time for that, right? Well, guess what, I was sucker-punched with that one. And if that wasn’t crummy timing, my 87-year-old father turned 88 on September 11. (If that isn’t a date to ever forget!) and I am the one who planned and canceled his birthday dinner. Since I am typically the life of the party and had no energy, I made the executive decision to cancel this one. Actually, my sister and father told me to stay away from them for fear of spreading my germs on their cake.

Switch gears. Now I’m preparing for the hurricane: batteries, water, candles, and vodka. Yep, that ought to do it. Oh, did I mention my boyfriend is the one who got me sick? Oh, yes, let me mention that now. We are feeling worse. And he is getting on my nerves with that hacking cough. Time to see a doctor. (And he is a retired doctor and the worst patient.)

“Holly, do you need to be seen also?” asks the doctor. Back to the local pharmacy to pick up antibiotics and steroids for both of us. Sinus infection and bronchitis. Whew, we will survive this hurricane!

Even though I know we need to rest, I think we also need to remove everything from my patio and secure the outdoor flower pots and yard art. (I love yard art; don’t ask!) The mission begins. He stands there. “What do you want me to do?” he asks. “Just get out of my way,” I answer. He does and finds the sofa a better suited place for him. UGH!

“What is that chirping? You have got to be kidding! It’s the smoke detector. I will rest tomorrow! Let me get a ladder. Don’t get up, honey. I got this.” After fiddling with this annoying device, we decided it was dysfunctional and elected to go back to the store for a new one. “I’m pooped.”

It’s dinnertime. Two cans of chicken soup and two Manhattans. He is still hungry. Leftover chicken strips, marinated artichokes, kidney beans, sautéed onions, and fresh garlic: Holly’s concoction. Done! Now, I can rest. Oops, too fast! Who is going to clean the kitchen? Guess.

My equal opportunity kitchen is now closed. Medications have been distributed and I eagerly await to finally relax and read my newly purchased magazine. Ah …

Hurricane Florence is still coming, the 2018 Real Estate Expo & Convention sadly had to cancel but will return somewhere in 2019, and we are determined to return to good cheer and health. The offer to purchase my townhome is still floating in cyberspace somewhere; however, my yard art and patio furniture are nicely tucked away in my garage.

The week isn’t too bad, although marshmallows really don’t belong in parking meters anyway. BTW, I think I have a sore throat today.

And how has your week been? Share, because we need a few laughs.

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