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You know, I'm glad I got this little keyboard for my Pocket PC. It makes it extremely easy for me to sit down and start typing something if I'm in the mood to do so. This is all Celeste's fault, BTW. I was looking for her keyboard in Montgome/ry and I liked it so much I decided to get my own too. So, expect to see me posting here a lot more. (Yay, huh, Mack?)

With that aside, let me start by pitying the poor man who will eventually become my husband. I don't know who he is, but whoever he is, I feel sorry for him. Why? Because, he'll have to put up with me as a roommate.

I was vividly reminded this morning of exactly why I enjoy being alone.

Normally, Saturdays is when I actually get a little sleep and go into the newspaper around 2 p.m. But today, I had a pretty major interview in the morning. So, I set my alarm for 9 a.m. and went to bed.

I need to backtrack for a moment. We hired a new reporter, Tracie, at the end of December. I knew her from college, she had written for my desk. So, in an act of generousity, I said she could bunk at my place until she found a place. I figured what, it would take two, maybe three days tops. After all, it didn't take me long to find a place. And, it didn't take Alan long. There's lots of places to rent in Selma.

Tracie's been on my couch for THREE WEEKS. Let's say we are not amused.

In a way, Tracie reminds me a lot of myself, and that is scary. But, you have to prod her to do anything. You have to sit and inform her that a story is going on so that she'll go out there and cover it. For example, last week, when the power was out in downtown Selma for nearly two hours, I walked in the newsroom to find Tracie sitting at her desk reading the newspaper.

"Why is the power out, Tracie," I asked.

"I don't know."

"How long has it been out?"

"Ever since I got here."

"Did you call the power company to see why the power is out?"

"No."

I picked up the phone. No dial tone. "Did you know that the phones are out?"

"No."

"Well, I think you should drive over to the power company and find out what's going on."

"Okay."

Tracie walks out and Gary, one of the production people walks in. "You know, she's been sitting at her desk doing nothing for 30 minutes," he told me. Apparently, she got to work and sat and waited to be told what to do while everyone else was trying to cope with the power outage. Out on Broad Street, there were cops directing traffic, banks and other businesses were either closed or doing work by candlelight. An obvious story right? Mou...I hope Tracie develops a little common sense while she's here.

Anyhow, back to this morning. I wake up to hear Tracie in the shower. No problem, I thought. I snuggled deeper into the warm covers and waited.

Five minutes passed. 10. 15.

At 20 minutes I got up and knocked on the bathroom door and asked Tracie when she would be out. She got out a few minutes later.

No problem. I had woken up around 8:50 and it was now 9:15. Cutting it a little close, but still enough time for me to shower and try to fix my hair in the pretty new hairstyle I was given Thursday before coming to work. So, I got in the shower, turned it on, and the showerhead popped off.

20 minutes later, I finally got a shower in, and I was not amused. I looked at my clock when I got back to my room and groaned. So much for fixing my hair. I threw on clothes and headed for the Times-Journal.

When Tracie got there, I asked her about the shower. "Oh, it was doing that yesterday."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, you were asleep, then I forgot."

Okay, somethings are worth waking up over. Having the showerhead suddenly die on you is one of them. I gritted my teeth and focused on my interviews.

I admit, I enjoy my privacy. My last year of college, I roomed with my cousin. Good roommate, but a small dorm room will get on your nerves no matter who you room with. Cassie was a good roommate too. We had our own rooms to retreat to. Celeste and I made the best roommates. We just got along together really well and were comfortable.

My poor future husband. I wonder if he'll take offense if I suggest he gets his own room or apartment? Of course, a marriage prerequisite is the willingness to want to live with the guy. That I can handle. I just hope he can cope living with me.

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Meg

April 2017

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