Test: This Is Only a Test

This is only a test. Could it be possible that people could give a rat's ass what I am thinking and doing? I can't imagine that could possibly be true, so this is a test. It is only a test. If I were to tell you that I am sitting here, a few minutes past midnight, pondering the possibility that there are people out there who care to read my random thoughts, posted a few minutes past midnight (meaning they are probably not even lucid thoughts, not even well formulated, certainly not pithy or entertaining), is it possible you would chime in and say, "I care! I care, Sujatha! Please, blather on and on! Tell me the color of your nightclothes. Tell me whether your curly locks are all down your back or twisted into an unattractive knot atop your head like a young Punjabi boy! Tell me if your children are asleep and what brilliant thing you read to them tonight. Tell me, what was for dinner, Sujatha? Please...what was for dinner?"

And in case there is anyone who cares, the answers are as follows: I have not yet put on my nightclothes, but I am wearing entirely too much brown, which is always a mistake, because I myself am brown; my hair is indeed in the unattractive top knot, but, at the moment, I am not nearly as cute as any little Punjabi boy; my children are asleep and I read Mean Margaret, which is actually quite delightful; and we went out to dinner at Old Ebbitt Grill with DH's old college roommate and his family.

If anyone cares at all, I promise to be more entertaining in the future.

Peace and love,

S