I am trying to put my finger on just what I did today to justify my existence.
I did clean my bedroom, but one should do that, anyway.
I did do the dishes, but once again, one should do that, anyway.
I am gradually copying episodes of "Game of Thrones" to dvd, for us to watch at the cottage, where there is no cable or satellite service. I suppose that is a good thing.
I have spent so many hours down here in my home office typing away today that I fear that I will have to dip my fingertips in a milk bath to regenerate my fingerprints.
Patricia remains out of town. This means I can still do what I want, including pissing away my day behind a computer, when I should have been outside doing something more constructive.
It's back to work in the morning. I will do everything in my power to remember not to drive downtown, park my car in the usual parking space, and walk to my former building. I will have to remember to jump on to the 103 and then take the Bayers Road exit, to get to my new work digs. It is a much shorter commute, and I just have to remember to take that new route from now on.
9 more work days until my vacation starts. I can hardly wait. Two weeks at the cottage, lying around and mowing the lawn and sleeping. Maybe washing the dishes once or twice. Or not. Maybe shaving once or twice. Or not. Maybe practicing other acts of personal hygiene. Or not. Ah. Cottage living.
See you tomorrow.
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