I should be cleaning my kitchen.
But, instead, I'm doing laundry. Oh, and I fixed a leaky toilet. The usual things one does before the parental units arrive from the wilds of Suburban Chicago. Yes, that's right, my folks are coming down Thursday night and staying through Sunday. I haven't seen them in almost two years, though I talk to them on the phone every week.

This is National Novel Writing Month.

This sort of seems like an oxymoron to me.

"Do as I say, not as I do."
Boy, I hope all the kids that have ever known me take that to heart. I'm sure not the best example of how to live one's life. Oh, I do okay these days, but... Well, let's just say I earned the scars, the tattoos, and that slightly amused look in my eyes when someone is surprised at the other two. And, I'm not even half-way done.

It all started with those damn black birds last week...
Actually, it was a mostly quiet week, except for the fact that my house refinance is in limbo because my ex-wife's lawyer didn't file the special warranty deed that grants me possesion of the house. Ah, well, some things never change. She's still sticking it to me even after the divorce.

You knew this had to happen.

"That which is dead cannot die.."

I finished I Heard You Paint Houses last week.

Oh My God!

I don't normally post twice in one day, but...
But, well, this has been an odd week and I had to cancell my therapist appointment last night, so you'll have to do, eh? As you regular readers know, I was so sick Monday that I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Alas, I lived through my brush with whatever that particular plague was and had to finally go into work Wednesday. Wednesday, I also found out that I had a quickly approaching deadline to get my house refinanced before we had to start the entire process again. Thursday seemed fine. Until lunch.