Dance Party Weekend!

It's Saturday and I just finished putting together the spare bedroom in my house, which is for now a computer room. This means one thing - I felt a powerful need to rock out to some "Spoon" and bust a move in my socks on the nice hard wood floor.

The problem with that is the door to this room is completely open to the sliding glass door on the porch and at the height of my funk fest I looked up and locked eyes with the postman.

His musk is used as currency in Argentina.

This might have been less embarrassing if I wasn't so horrible at dancing (or had self respect), but as soon as he saw me I jumped away from the door and his view, Making it as obvious as possible that I was embarrassed. I looked outside as he got in his little jeep and I could see him shaking his head - either he was laughing to himself or he was trying to forget the horrors he had just seen.