C. sent me a package. Chock full o' Easter grass. Little see through chicks filled with egg shaped teeth rotters. A race car shaped mint tin. A funny card. C. rocks.
I'm tired again. I was good to go until I was five minutes into my drive home and I realized that I didn't recall seeing that turn being made. Not so good. Radio went louder, window went down. I need to get my butt in bed before 4am.
In fact, I shall go do that now. I've been downloading songs. With one song, "Settle for a Slowdown", I'm still coming to terms with the artist's name - Dierks Bentley. It sounds like a name for a character in a modern day, England-set bodice ripper. Good song, but I hear popping buttons and miscommunication and some sinister sub-plot whenever I think of his name.
1 comment:
She is nice, isn't she.
Post a Comment