32 days to go

Irony. It's what's life is all about.

I rolled over about 2:30 in the morning to feel something cold and/or wet on my back. Turns out it was, drumroll please, my old watch. Alive and well. I'm guessing my cat had hidden it somewhere and brought it back. Of course, that's a little far-fetched, but I wouldn't put it past her. So, the big decision is: what does a guy do with two watches? Fortunately, I have a job where it's good to have a separate watch, so one becomes the rugged, beat-up one, the other is for nice, regular activities. Seems sensible, no?

Ah well. Myself, like most of America, will be headed back to work this morning. This isn't so cool. We'll all just have to cope, though, and it's time. Man, did I ever have a good weekend, though. Too much fun.

But here we are. Time to make the world work again.