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Yes, I’ve got some items to post, but now it’s bedtime and I’m too sleepy to do so. Despite the fact that — or perhaps because — I took a nap this evening, sometime between 6:30 and 7:30, mostly to celebrate finishing that DAMN special section and also because, heh, I was sleepy!

I want to write about the overnight fire that destroyed the Shelbyville Moose Lodge  because, of all the places I remember from my childhood, the Moose is one that I remember most. It was my dad and stepmom’s true “home away from home,” so I have plenty to say about it, good and bad. Mostly good, it seems; isn’t that what time does to memories, sometimes?

I also want to mention how much I am enjoying The Riches, my newfound guilty pleasure Monday nights at 9. (I kicked CSI: Miami to the curb … for the time being, anyway.) That, too, however, will have to wait until tomorrow. Or some other time.

Oh, and now I’m suddenly craving a glass of milk. Cold, cold milk. And of course I’m out of milk.

If you were me, right now, you’d be drinking a glass of skim milk. In a glass glass ’cause that’s how it’s best. Even though the milk container in the fridge is a plastic jug. Not that I can’t get milk in glass bottles; I certainly can and do, sometimes, at Farm Fresh. But then I always forget to take my bottle back, so I always have to pay extra ’cause I didn’t bring my bottle, and before you know it, I have four or five empty milk bottles stashed away, and it becomes a never-ending cycle ’cause: When am I ever gonna buy four or five gallons of milk, all at once? Never!

And now the cat has detected that I’m drinking milk, so she’s meowing at me. And I blow in her face, just to frustrate her a little more, ’cause I am NOT going to the kitchen to get her some milk just yet. Can’t she see I’m busy?

This has been a good day. Despite the crick in my neck that twinges every time I turn my head to the right (must’ve slept on it wrong, or perhaps it’s stress). And the fact that I spent the first four hours of my Saturday up at the office, working on the first two sections of a seven-section special edition that’s coming out over the next two weeks. I managed to complete one section and get about three-fourths of the way through the second, though, so I was rather pleased with my efforts. (I can finish up the second section Monday at work, so no need to go in tomorrow. Yay!)

After work today, I picked up two four-piece Chicken McNugget Happy Meals for Diane and me for lunch. What can I say, thanks to her, I am now sorta hooked on ’em. Mostly because, instead of being some kind of weird, gristle-y, pre-formed mixture of coated white and dark rubber, McNuggets are now crispy all-white pieces of something that actually resembles chicken. FAR superior to the so-called Chicken Selects, which, in my opinion, should be avoided at all costs. Put it this way: NO AMOUNT of sweet ‘n’ sour sauce can make those things taste good!

After lunch it was on to home for a bit to watch more basketball (I pretty much have NO CHANCE of winning the inter-office NCAA tournament, yet again, but damn: That Xavier-Ohio State game was certainly exciting!) before getting cleaned up and heading over to Leslie’s father-in-law’s 80th birthday party. Spent two wonderful hours seeing old friends and meeting new additions to the family.

After that, I headed back over to Diane’s to watch some more basketball, eat dinner and hang out. Then home to watch even more basketball whilst surfing. And catching an occasional glimpse of Titanic (God help me, I can’t resist it whenever it’s on!). And writing, just a little.

I’m tired enough to sleep, but Elaine and Snow Patrol are on SNL tonight, so I suspect I won’t be going to bed anytime soon. That’s OK, though, ’cause I don’t have to go to the office tomorrow.

Edit: Just 10 minutes into Saturday Night Live and I’m already laughing over Chris Rock’s opener, talking about how women have had the right to vote for 100 years and STILL have yet to elect a white woman president, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ monologue, which included her take on the panty-less Britney Spears — complete with a big patch o’ black fur between her legs.

August 2017
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