Observations from Nancy

I am having a crisis.

Yesterday I went to visit my friend Beth. It's a bit of a drive, so I brought my favorite tumbler filled with tea (lots of ice) in the car with me. I love this cup. It's a clear plastic tumbler with a Susan G Komen breast cancer pink ribbon on it. Better yet, it came with a plastic lid and straw. I love these tumblers because they don't sweat, and this one in particular is a bit smaller on the bottom half to better fit into car cup holders (not to mention the pink ribbon). And now my crisis...I forgot the cup at Beth's house! Well, technically I didn't forget it, as much as I thought I would be going back into the house before my drive home and didn't. I was about halfway home (35 miles) when I missed it, and I seriously considered turning around around and going back. I realized it would have been almost 1:30 AM and figured it might not be such a good idea. Now I know that Beth will hold onto the cup for me, or even mail it back if I asked; it's just the OCD panic involved with not having it right now, in it's proper place. I already rushed to Bed, Bath & Beyond website to see if said tumbler could be replaced. It cannot. I looked on e-bay even though I know in my heart of hearts I cannot buy a used cup as this would create an even worse crisis. I can only try to calm myself about it and wait until I can talk to Beth, with whom I had a fantastic time yesterday, despite the above mentioned drama. In the worse case, BB&B will have the tumblers again this summer and I can get a new one then.

There are a couple of other OCD things that have been on my mind too often lately. I am staying with my friend Denise in Chicago. She lives in a gorgeous neighborhood and her address is 5611 Brentwood Drive. Ok, I should like this address since it has my birthday (the 11th) in it, but no. There is a house on the corner with the address 5555 Brentwood Drive, and I find myself wishing it were Denise's address every time I drive past, which is at least twice a day. It just is such a cool sounding address, 5555 Brentwood Drive. Say it once, you'll see what I mean. I kind of move my shoulders up and down when I say it like a 1920's dance of some sort.

5555 Brentwood Drive...I know. I'm crazy.