Oh, Fridays. Why are you so cruel to me? Fridays always seem oddly long, and leaving work in the middle of a rush is just weird no matter how many times I do it.
Today, I found myself in a trailer park. The kind that give trailer parks a bad name. The kind with abandoned trailers with broken windows and fire damage and hobo kitties wondering around in the street. The kind that make you wonder exactly how down on your luck you, yourself, would have to be to consider living somewhere like that. And how many guns it would take to make you feel safe enough to sleep at night. One of the trailers there caught my eye. It wasn't the tattered sheets hung in the window as curtains, or the broken out window fixed with duct tape or the neat pile of beer cans that drew my attention to it. It was the immaculately clean, chromed out Dodge Charger sitting in the driveway.
Sometimes, I just don't get it. Not even a little bit.
On the plus side today, the last of my Christmas shopping came in the mail! Now all that is left is to do a little baking... okay, okay. It's a lot of baking. But I like baking. I just don't like doing the dishes afterwards. But, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Unless the recipient of the action is particularly mean, grumpy, or immature; then the reaction is usually way out of proportion.
I'm actually getting excited! Christmas is only... seven, er, eight days away? I've lost count.
Texas is five days away. I haven't lost count.
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