happy hour

I was at an all day meeting. My dad used to say that if you had a 90 minute meeting, it was probably 30 minutes of wasted time. After 6 hours with my ass on a chair designed for a fourth grader, I don't really care who drives the school van. No offense to the person who called the meeting, of course.

Regis is still working in the home office and it's 5:15 so I poured myself a glass of wine and made a bowl of popcorn. It's like happy hour at my kitchen table.

I see at the top of the blog page, there is a planned outage at 4 o'clock PDT. This is a math problem so I'm going to pretend I didn't see it.

I signed out for a while and sat in the yard. It's beautiful outside but Regis started talking about mowing the lawn so I thought we should come in. I don't know why that bothers him today. We have weeds galore, sticks from the trees, and all kinds of other crap going on so why should long grass matter?

I had dreams this morning that I remembered. They were about someone making greeting cards out of air vents and when you opened them the pictures changed like the old Superman rings that came in Cracker Jack boxes. I don't usually remember dreams. This one seemed long and involved but was probably about ten seconds.

Boy, I'm cranky and weepy tonight. Probably the effects of my solitary happy hour. I can tell if I go on much longer, I'll get whiny.