“It must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.”
– Douglas Adams
The office ladies and I held a vote, we’ve decided it should be Friday.
Leaving the gym the other day I passed the entirety of the football team leaving one of the practice facilities. A hoard of hulking men in padding lurched across the street and I found myself thinking, “Good grief, they’re young. Infants!” And then I clutched my pearls to think that I was nearly 4-8 years older than most of them. They can crush me…but I think they’re babies…
For some reason bright lipstick has recently become necessary to my happiness. I blame spring fever.
My secret stash of dark chocolate, hidden in my desk for emergencies, is running dangerously low. On an unrelated note, my exercising regimen has suffered with J. being in town. On another unrelated note, we’re eating out way too much because I still don’t apparently make enough food to keep him fed.
Scarlett just sent me her next manuscript to edit. Someday I will have read the next Young Adult literary craze months ahead of the rest of the public.
Speaking of, should probably read The Hunger Games at some point. Currently I’m in a theological phase reading the Confessions of St Augustine and a tome on the Book of Revelation by a scholar of gnostic Christianity. No doubt I’ll be in the mood for something easier soon.
I think there are some Thursdays that should be spent out in the Spring sun and not in fluorescent light bulb lit offices.