My brain has now turned to a runny paste.

Yet, oddly enough, I feel few ill effects. But boy am I ready to be through with this day.

After a marathon session of typing meeting minutes the last two days, I am finally through with them, which leaves me just enough time in the rest of the day to fume about the guy I just had a meeting with. Same guy from a couple of weeks back who just couldn't stay off his cell phone. Today, he just couldn't make it on time. Now before, I noted that I didn't want to get a call every five minutes letting me know he was going to be five minutes late, but I WOULD like to have received at least ONE call to let me know he would be strolling in 20 minutes past time.

I also would have appreciated having received a ready-to-be-processed contract from him, too. You know, one sorta like the one I keep saying I HAVE TO HAVE. Yeah, yeah, I know--and if Granny had wheels she'd be a trolley.

Whatever that means.

And then there's this whole weekend thing--as I mentioned before, Boy has a game tonight at 7 at West Homewood--meaning I go to the house, pick him up, and turn around and come right back from where I started. Then tomorrow, Catherine's game is at 9, his is at 12 in Riverchase, Rebecca's is at 3 at Liberty Park (at the ultra swanky Richard M. Scrushy Football and Soccer Complex--yes, really), and then sometime in there around lunchtime, there is a Band Booster cookout on The Mall in Trussville that Reba has already paid for us to attend. But given that Boy and I will be on the road, we'll miss it. I told Reba to make sure she and the girls eat enough food to make up for our absence. Then Catherine has her team photos Sunday afternoon, and Jonathan has a game at noon Sunday, and I'm supposed to fill in to teach the adult class Sunday morning and I haven't even started my lesson, and sometime in there we have to do some gift getting and giving for the Birthday Boy, and it has now been three weeks since I cut the front yard, and it has rained now several times and is beginning to look like we have a religious aversion to inflicting pain on poor defenseless grasses and wild flora. But it must be clipped, or else.

In other words, the usual stuff.

See you all back here bright-tailed and bushy-eyed Monday morning. Or something.
posted by Terry at 2:54:00 PM