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Sending some good vibes to Genghis John, who sounds like he�s having a rough week.
No bath for me last night. That Waving not Drowning bath bomb is taunting me.
On my way to the apartment, I stopped and bought a pizza, planning to throw in a load of laundry, sit down and eat with the company of some cheesy sitcom, switch the laundry over, and then head into the bathtub while my white load agitated in the basement.
Halfway up the hill to my house, I noticed Chris�s car still parked outside the house.
The wake went from 2-4 and 7-9. He�d elected to go only to the 7-9 portion.
It�s sad how disappointed I was to find him on the couch.
Finally, at about 6:40, he dragged his butt into his bedroom, changed into some wake-appropriate clothes and disappeared out the door.
Great�I still had time! I finished eating, cleaned up my dish, went down to the basement, played with the washing machine for a minute, then approached the bathroom to start the water.
The phone rang. It was my mom. Forty five minutes later, I hung up to switch my laundry again.
There was still a chance for a bath, although it would need to be a short one. I pulled my stuff together. Then the doorbell rang.
I peeked out my window and saw Jim standing on the porch. �Hi,� he said, regarding my puzzled face with equal confusion, �isn�t there a Buffy night tonight?�
Jim came in and settled himself into one of the living room chairs. He came bearing DVD�s for us to borrow--Heavy Metal and Life of Brian for Chris, High Fidelity and Breakfast at Tiffanys for me. I kept his visit to about half an hour. He was going home to watch Charlie�s Angels. I encouraged him out the door.
By the time he left, my chances for a bath were shot.
Oh well, the bath bomb won�t spoil.
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