It would not be inaccurate to say that I’m glad that I made it through the busyness of April with my sanity still (mostly) intact. I hate to talk about being busy. After all, isn’t everyone busy? No one wants to hear about someone else’s busyness. Doesn’t that just make you feel even more stressed? Years ago I read a little blurb in one of those Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff books about how we shouldn’t talk about how busy we are, so I generally try not to do so. But this month has just been CRAZY, because along with all of the normal stuff, we threw in a visit (car troubles added much to this thrilling excursion, I add in a sarcastic tone) to an out-of-town oral surgeon (wisdom teeth removal coming up this summer for the eldest) and two college visits, where the eldest learned that she most definitely does not want to be a nurse as that would involve touching creepy “learning dummies”…and then a lifetime of touching real human beings. She is now thinking again of pursuing a degree in criminal justice, this being a previously mentioned aspiration of hers. Classes with names such as “Precision Driving” and “Firearms” have piqued her interest. I’m looking forward to seeing where the future takes her and wondering how she will react to cuffing criminals (as that would involve touching human beings!). She probably gets that touch-phobia thing from me…I don’t like people other than my immediate, and I do mean immediate, family inside my 10-ft-radius-personal-space-bubble. Relatives go in for a hug (those that catch me before I can get away) and I’m cringing inside! And near strangers (defined as anyone that doesn’t fall under the immediate family/relative heading) that like to hug??? Horror of horrors. Who are those people??!
I haven’t gotten much reading in during all of the rushing around this month, but I did finish Lisa Jackson’s Never Die Alone. One thing you can always count on from a Lisa Jackson book is the use of the word “sibilant.” I have never, ever read that word in any other book. After seeing it twice in one book of hers that I read previously, I looked it up in the dictionary just to make sure that it meant what I thought it meant. I’m not certain why, but I simply don’t like this word. It just doesn’t roll of the tongue in a pleasant way. I did, however, enjoy the book, which focuses on two serial killers. Unfortunately, the reader is left hanging at the end and must wait for the next book in the Rick Bentz/Reuben Montoya series to see what happens with one of the storylines…hopefully that wasn’t a spoiler there. Sorry.