I don’t even know his last name

My mama would be so ashamed

It started off, “Cutie,  where are you from?”

And then turned into,” Oh no,  what have I done?”

And I don’t even know his last name!

 

(Lyrics by Carrie Underwood) 

Well, I have never said these words to myself, but I have indeed opened my door to many men carrying gifts in all shapes and sizes!  Actually, gifts would be the wrong word, because gifts would imply something I did not pay for, when in fact, these packages come with an invoice, with my credit card information, with my approval.  There are many things that I find myself indulging in ~ indulgences that one may assume I would feel guilty for, such as eating chocolate, sleeping in late, buying office supplies or baskets, “snuggling” with my husband, watching too many movies, or spending too much money on groceries or manicures . . .unfortuantely, that is not the case with me.  I do agree that these are in fact “treats” or as one would call guilty pleasures, but in the end that pit of uneasiness and guilt doesn’t rest in me.    I don’t know, maybe it was the way God made me, made me to enjoy life to the fullest! 

 

There is a moment in my life though, when I do wake up feeling my stomach all tied up in knots with worry and with excitement – that is how I would describe a guilty pleasure.  It is something that makes me feel oh so wonderful and oh so awful at the same time!  That moment happens in the late night hours. 

That moment happens when I am at my weakest point.  That moment happens with a sweet glass of wine in one hand, my credit cards in the other, and my tired eyes staring at something that will indeed bring happiness! 

 

 

WORK OUT VIDEOS . . . NEW LENSES . . . HOW TO BOOKS . . . A NEW POWER-HORSE of a COMPUTER . . .  A JUICER  . . . .

 

 

late at night, when no one is watching, by the light of my sweetly scented candles, is when I am dreaming, dreaming, dreaming – – unfortunately, in the morning, I wake up with a strange man ringing my doorbell,                                and I don’t even know his last name. 

 

 

What is your guilty pleasure?