Having a policy of saying yes to just about any adventure that comes up means that some nights you find yourself on the deck of a converted fishing trawler, floating around Lake Union while a small orchestra plays something based on Little Red Riding Hood. Even though it's August and supposed to be summer it started to rain, but the universe had a reason for that, too. Because outside was nice enough, but if it had stayed clear I would never have ended up snugged down in the living space in the boat, a stranger on a bean bag propped against my shins and a cute guy playing a pedal steel over by the fireplace.
And it means that an afternoon learning about canning in a living room might just end up as a pizza party in a hotel penthouse, fuzzy with wine, an infant on the floor grinning and licking my hand like a cat, warm and funny and bigger than he was a week ago.
It's probably for the best that I never could have imagined living this life, because it's so much better as a surprise.