There’s a reason I don’t like shopping for electronics. Not that I don’t mind the big screen TV in my living room, or the great sound system that brings movies to life. I just don’t like the actual shopping for such things. I get tired of looking at boxes and wires and screens and remotes and all the rest.
On one particular day, as I followed my hubby down aisle after uninteresting aisle, my mind, already beginning to turn to mush, wandered to my latest work in progress in a last attempt at sanity. I was soon absorbed in the thirteenth century, reworking a sword fight, and I applauded myself for making the most of a difficult situation.
I was plotting out the last chapter when I followed my hubby around a corner and through a doorway. But something was wrong. I’m not sure what alerted me first, my husband’s startled expression, or the strange fixtures in front of me not found in any women’s bathroom. Alas, there was no escaping reality this time.
The moral of this painful story? Pay attention, for there’s no telling where your imagination will take you.
Photo courtesy of morguefile.com