A late night.
Waiting for:
- for Jordan to get home from the Jennifer Hudson concert so I can go to bed
- for the thermostat to respond to The Clapper. It’s cold in here and I’m lazy
- for groceries to magically appear in the house
- for our cleaning crew. I just can’t take it anymore. Hey there, ladies
- until Ehren is old enough to spend a month in north Texas rustling cattle and gossiping in Walmart. Next Thursday should just about do it
- for my manager at work to say “hey, welcome back!” It’s been a week
- for a project that doesn’t make my brain bleed
- for the Archway company to get a government bailout. I miss my Mother’s iced oatmeal cookies. Best cookies ever
- for my body to heal. It hurts
- for the portable diaper incinerator—safe for bedroom use!—to be invented then sold by the Sham Wow guy
