(not) working for the weekend

Morning, chickens! And happy almost-weekend! Despite the fact that I technically do not have to head into the office five days a week at this point, the weekend is a much sunnier, happier time, because it generally means more hands to grab up Theo, and more chances of a shower that’s not interrupted by a screaming baby. Based on his crying patterns, I have deduced that T hates when I eat and shower, but as these are basic needs, I’m not willing to negotiate, and he’s going to have to learn to get over it. I’m all about the tough love, you guys. My grandmother is visiting this week from Connecticut, so T and I have been doing a lot of visiting, which is good, as it limits the number of Roseanne episodes I’ve been able to catch. Other things I’d like to comment on from the world this week:

  • I cannot watch any more of this Malaysian flight coverage, because after really considering it, this is a big world and that’s a small plane, relatively, and to be quite honest, I’m surprised we’re not losing more shit more often.
  • The blue line derailment (read: crash into the escalators) is so disturbing to me that I am having dreams about it. Cabs to O’Hare for life, now.
  • If spring doesn’t show up soon, I am boycotting the weather. Also, anyone who complains about it being too hot this summer is being excommunicated from my life.

And with that, I’m off to start the weekend. We’ve got big plans, including introducing Theo to Gene the Russian (it’s about time T started his kettlebell training, don’t you think) and enjoying the slightly warmer temperatures, even if they involve rain. Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it, (does anyone have it, today?), chickens!


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