We made arrangements, Tuesday afternoon, to get the imp out from under foot during delivery and installation of the counter tops that were supposed to get here tomorrow morning. He's at Grandma and Grandpa's until Saturday morning.
Now, it's pushed back to Tuesday. At the earliest. Because some chucklehead can't read instructions.
I'm gonna forget about it for a while. I'm going to put on some music that I like but can't listen to with the kids up and about, drink a bit of scotch on ice, and see how much writing I can get done while I relax.
Because, seriously? I still want to fling somebody out of a fifth-story window. I'm just not calming down about this, no matter what I try.
56 minutes ago
LOL, the Scotch will help if nothing else.
ReplyDeleteI just discovered where mamma hid the 7-Up on me so this will likely be a Scotch night here, too. A Ballantine's toast to you!
As the old Gestalt toast goes, Here's to you and Here's to me. And, if by chance we don't agree, the Hell with you and Here's to me.
Somehow I just can't quite see much disagreement here, LMHO. We just seem dialed in on much the same wavelength.
Winston
I just finished my scotch. I feel a *lot* better.
DeleteWe do seem to see eye-to-eye, don't we?