Living on the edge

I may have lost that loving feeling, but I am certainly living on the edge these days. Oh, the excitement!
I have never been a risk-taker, even for no-money dice games at Nanna’s house, much to her chagrin. I could not bring myself to roll that dice even one more time because I might go over the points limit per roll. She would never take me to the poker machines, I’m sure!
Out for dinner this week I was torn between two meals, and I chose the scallops, even though there was tapenade in the dish. I don’t like olives but decided to challenge myself and ordered it anyway. I tried the tapenade, I even sampled it with the vegetables to give the flavour another chance, but, needless to say, it was left on the plate afterwards. I could have ordered pork or lamb, but I really love scallops and I rarely have them as a main meal.
Ordering the ‘other’ cocktail before dinner was actually a mistake, I’m sure the fall-back choice would have been as well, but it was different, it was a risk. I suppose it wasn’t different if I have been making different choices for myself recently, out of my comfort zone, and all that. I seem to have made that a habit, or am changing my spots, learning new tricks etc.
I headed to the powder room after dinner and danced around a little before choosing the bathroom stall that was not the first nor the middle, because they are too much in the forefront of a psycho’s mind when they spray the room w machine gun bullets. But if I’ve really changed my spots then I should choose one of those next time, so that some schwarzenegger type will waltz in and I will find that my husband is not some (devilishly handsome) medical sales-type, but some exciting spy and yada yada yada, that would be a cool new trick.


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