The moral to the story....

....is that there is none. 
There is no point in this story.
I feel I should tell you this upfront.

You know how you can ask someone of a mature age a question that has somewhat of a yes or no or simple answer.....
....and they give you the day, time, what the weather was like, the price of a gallon of milk and what they were wearing.....
...before they answer the actual question.

You know what I mean, right?

Okay.
So.

I am that person.

Brian asked me a question this morning.  About the weather forcast.  And I spent 5 minutes telling him about stopping by to visit a friend who we met at a football game and her step-mom is a friend of the family and how I bought some scrapbooking pens from her.....not her, exactly, but from a book party that she was having....

....and I had to tell him this because I think she told me on the way out the door that the weekend weather looks like it's gonna be good. 

....except that by the time I got to that part of the story, I sort of forgot why I was telling him the story.

And I think it all started today.  My 38th birthday. 
38 is officially "late thirties." 

And I have trouble, much like others who are in some later years, of getting to the point of my story.

Or remembering if there was a point to my story. 

And I'm starting to wonder.....
.....
.....
is the day that i start talking about health issues, procedures and bathroom habits just around the corner?


More of my riveting weekend update coming soon.
Probably in bullet points.
Hopefully this will keep me on track.