I'm the sexy lady on my street...

You are probably asking yourself how someone with such strained self-esteem can say this about herself, but let me tell ya how...

I called the insurance company today to drop the Sebring and add the Santa Fe. Believe it or not, that is how this story begins. I called my agent and left a message.

I had gotten out of the shower and, in an effort to feel sexy despite B to the power of 3 NOT calling me this weekend, put on a sexy bright pink semi-sheer bra and matching panties. grrrr....

When my agent's assistant called me back, and needed the VIN number, I told him to hold on just a second, I had to get it out of the glove compartment. I slipped on my white terrycloth robe, and my satin and sequined flip-flops, and jaunted out to the Santa Fe. While fumbling with the phone, and the glove box and the paperwork I needed, my robe slipped off of my shoulder and showed off a hot-pink clad breasticle.

The HOT college-aged neighbor was getting out of his car, and for the first time ever, gave me a coy smile and wave, which I returned.

I am, sadly enough, the youngest chick on the street past the age of jailbait, or who doesn't have 2 bratty kids. So, I think this now makes me the sexy lady on the street.

Or, as I always feared, I am now the crazy cat lady running around outside in her robe, accidentally flashing people, and hottie college boy was laughing at me.

Whatever.