On a night out on the town with the hubs, we found ourselves in a book store where I used to work. It was just after college when I had moved to Nashville, and to be honest, I had no idea what I was going to do or pursue. 

Working retail–specifically in a bookstore–was more physical than I had expected; you’re on your feet all day long and lifting books constantly. I’m pretty sure I started seeing a chiropractor that year, and not romantically. Jeesh, get your mind outta the …

In general, the bookstore turned out to be far more physical than I ever could have imagined. Here’s a pic of the bathroom stall where I found two teenagers knocking boots. Observe:

As I recall, she actually had on a really cute pair of wedge sandals. It’s odd to me that my initial reaction was to start crying out of my embarrassment at finding them. Never mind the fact that they were … you know. Parents be warned: just because you drop them off at a well-lit public place over spring break does not mean they won’t find a way. Just sayin’.

It’s a wonder I still like going back to this bookstore, but I must confess that the large children’s section and close proximity to the yummy luxury chocolate they hawk at the store, makes me susceptible to, well, a trip down memory lane like this one. I am a sucker for the snobby chocolate.

On this particular sojourn, the hubs and I felt it best to divide and conquer (i.e., he thinks design books are boring), and I stumbled upon this title:

Now I hesitate to call out any published writer as–hello!–you are published and alas, I am not. However, the fact that someone actually wanted to publish a book with this title is downright frightening to me. I will say that I cannot speak to what’s inside this book (there could be some helpful stuff in there?) … because I was too scared to open it!

The idea that you can completely change your partner in life in five short days is whackadoodle to me. That someone could possibly think my husband–or any human, for that matter–isn’t more complicated an individual than this is kind of offensive. We really do look for the easy fix in all things nowadays, don’t we?

But then I began to consider the desperate housewives (I have my own days on Wisteria Lane minus the crazy and illegal) caught in unhappy marriages they’re not willing to give up on. Imagine: they’ve got kids pulling them in every direction. Perhaps they’re working outside the home, too. Just women who are spent and disconnected from the hubs. I suppose at that point they’re just trying to find a way back to their love. I get it. Sort of.

But it’s still frightening. I’d never want someone to come at me with a “3-2-1 FIX HER” approach to whip me into shape in time for the weekend.

Call me crazy. If you do, you can always use this book to rewire me. And Babe, no worries: I didn’t even crack the cover. Love you.