Holy cow, is tomorrow Friday already?
Indeed it is.
Work is winding down for the year, I’m told. I wouldn’t know. None of my daily plans survive the contact of my butt hitting the chair. I went in today planning on working on this thing… and I’m told that, nope, I’m going to be working on the next week thing instead, it was kicked to the left. Yay. So I’m getting a bottle of something, I tell you what, on the way home tomorrow. Something red.
Saturday evening will be devoted to our Harry Dresden tabletop game and Sunday I will be sent out and about to run errands and, with luck, I can come home and do laundry.
There is a problem with regards to Costco, however. There is a worker there who is always cheerful and always says hello and, the last three times I’ve been there (while Maribou was home working on papers), has asked “Where’s Maribou?” So I need to figure out if I can get Maribou to go with me to Costco if only to convince this guy that, no, seriously: I am still married.
So… what’s on your docket?