Like most humans, I've worried plenty about what others thought of me.
Then middle-age arrives and some of us are like, "Geez! Other people's opinions are none of my biznass! I'm gonna ditch 'em and get on with the fun stuff I came to dooooo!"
And some of us do that, to the best of our ability, but occasionally things pop up indicating that we still have more hoohaw to let go.
Like the other night, I dreamed someone told me all of my emails were accessible to anyone on the internet.
"Wow," I thought.
I wasn't worried about it, but was curious to know if it was true.
I nonchalantly hopped online and quickly scrolled down the list of my emails.
Huh. No biggie.
But then I stopped at the last one, one I didn't even recall was in my inbox.
Black Helvetica. All lowercase. Just quietly sitting all alone at the bottom of the screen with the subject line...
OH MY GOD! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I totally freaked out.
I freaked out so hard that I woke myself up and sat up in bed.
"Oh, thank goodness! That email's not really in my inbox. There's nothing to worry about."
Then suddenly it all became hilarious to me.
I'm terrified of penis emails?!
Pauly was awake so, between laughs, I told him about it.
He just stared at me blankly.
Sometimes my very modest husband has no idea what to do with me, so he doesn't react at all, probably hoping it'll stop me from talking about whatever disturbing topic I'm wild about, in this case, very public, genital-related documentation.
"Okay, fine," I thought. It's not funny to him but I know someone who will totally see the humor in this, so I sent my dream off to my pal, Marian.
Marian quickly responded on a new email thread with the subject line...
And THAT, folks, is what friends are for!