I was on a course today. It was about customer relations. It exceeded my expectations.
It took me an hour to drive home tonight. On a really good day, it can be 25 or 30 minutes.
Nice to see all those comments about the Halifax history post that I wrote last evening. Keep them coming!
I'm off work on Friday. I will be driving to the Valley in the morning. There is estate work to deal with. I want to finish transcribing the M.E. interview. And, I'm sure my mother has fiendish plans in store for me that involve many hours of shopping and running errands. I will return from these excursions exhausted, physically and emotionally, and collapse on my bed and sleep away the hours, dreading the next such request and knowing that it's as sure to come as the morning dew or the next such trespass on our cottage property by the toothless halfwits who skulk about with such wild abandon. A nervous tic may be developed.
I'll return to the city on Sunday, half the man, half the Bevboy (Bevbaby?), that I am now. It will not be a pretty thing to see, o constant reader. Not a pretty thing at all.
Oops. Time to do the dishes. I'm down to my last clean spork.
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