I made an iced-vanilla-maple-mocha with some leftover coffee this morning, and as I sipped it at work I thought to myself, I'd love to say that this is delicious, but I can only say that it's good. Then when I was walking to the bank for work, I met up with a bunch of high school kids on the sidewalk, and I wanted to say, "Hey, share the sidewalk," because nobody went single file, but I thought that that might make me out to be one of those people, so I just forged on. At least I didn't step off the sidewalk. Or walk into the lamppost. There was enough room for everyone after all.
I'm not sure how I'm still vertical. Well. Semi-vertical. I'd love to drink a shot of Schnapps from one of my really pretty, long-stemmed shot glasses, but then I'd be horizontal for sure, and then I'd feel like crap tomorrow, and I have to work tomorrow, so I'll just continue with water since I'm probably already dehydrated from all the caffeine that was in that not quite delicious iced-vanilla-maple-mocha that I had earlier.
Getting the kids to bed has been tough the last couple days. Well, one kid in particular. How tough, you ask? Samuel L. Jackson wants to read you a little story about it.
I'm not sure if it's my husband or my dog that's snoring. It's definitely not K1. He just got up again.
Looks like I'll have to read for a while to make sure that everyone is asleep. Oh. Darn.