9:47 -- The text message chime goes off. Said phone is maybe a foot further than my arm is capable of extending. Mmmf. Where's my Go-Go Gadget Arm when I need it? I spend the next twenty-five minutes or so debating whether or not I should actually get off my tuchus and reach for the phone, after all it could be...somebody.
*Side note...why is it that when you're home, the blasted phone never goes off. But good grief get in a room with a patient (a screaming baby usually increases the chances), and the phone lights up like a Christmas tree!!!
10:36 -- Thinking it could be an invitation for something fun, I finally get off my rump and get the phone. This is what is says: " I think I need a guy who doesn't dress better than me...just not as bad as my dad. Lol"