I was going to blog when I got back to Nashville yesterday.
But my fingertips were throbbing. I couldn’t type or unbutton things or make toast. Ok, actually. I could make toast. But it hurt. But it was delicious. I love toast.
My fingertips were throbbing because I chewed my nails to pieces on the three and a half hour drive north.
I chewed my nails because I was nervous and a wee bit stressed.
I was nervous and a wee bit stressed because I was listening to The Hobbit. Seriously. Am I supposed to be completely fine when Bilbo has to rescue 12 dwarfs from spider web cocoons? He is a hobbit, people. He’s tiny. How does Tolkien expect Bilbo to save the day? Sheesh.
I was listening to The Hobbit because Caroline told me it was a great book and this was the best recording of a book that has ever existed on the face of the planet. And it is. I’m 3/4 of the way through and I’m loving it.
And because I was home in Marietta, I went to Caroline‘s house. And because that’s how Caroline rolls, I was only there for about 7 minutes when I had a bowl of soup in my hands and the box set of The Hobbit CDs in my lap.
And yesterday I drove and listened and chewed away. And was slightly amazed at Bilbo’s skillz.
So the fact that I didn’t write a profound and/or ridiculous and/or hilarious and/or inspirational and/or mediocre blog yesterday is Caroline‘s fault.
Thanks, Caroline. Love you.