OMFG

I want to know where the Island Of Gorgeous Cousins is.

One of its refugees showed up on my radar yesterday... and I am all addle-brained. Nobody even knows what an "addle" is, but my brain is all stuffed with them. Or it. Or whatever.

There's a place I go after work, a place I like to just hang out and not worry about being all impressive and meeting people, right? I've been going there for years, and after this week, I needed a night I could just hand out and not worry about being impressive and meeting people.

But I went in, and there was a woman in there I've seen several times before, sitting at a table with a guy who has the hots for her (she really thinks he's a human barnacle), and... another woman.

She was damn gorgeous. Dark, long, straight hair, pretty shoulders, nice eyes, fabulous legs, sexy heels, adorable in all the ways I like.

It was her cousin. And, as it turns out, we all work for the same place, though I've never worked directly with any of them.

The cousin lives barely ten miles from me, she's divorced, totally single (as her cousin informed me) and she's... nice.

We did exchange numbers... and here it is, six in the morning on a Saturday, and I'm trying to remember protocol. How early the next day is it OK to call your Friday-night meetups?

Her name is Ellen. I am going to go down to the hardware store in a few hours (when they open up) and ask the old guy who runs the place to smack me in the head with an axe-handle to set my mind back to rights.

Knock all those addles out of there, I guess.

When it rains... it... rains.