So I returned home from a lovely lunch with unixd0rk, all prepared to chill, watch a movie, maybe take a nap, and what should I find but my kitchen ceiling was leaking ... again (note to unixd0rk: yes, I know if I buy a house, this is one of those pesky little things that will become my problem). A quick call to Catherine, who sends Mark over, and Mark and I go upstairs to investigate. Question of the day: when a water heater is leaking at the rate of a cereal bowl per minute, it's probably time to get a new one, right? D'oh.
At any rate, this morning was my mammogram (fun fun fun), followed by spending a ridiculous amount of money on rings at Big Bamboo (hey -- they're going out of business and having a huge sale, and anyway, I got a raise this week, so screw it), followed by the aforementioned lunch with unixd0rk at Baba D's. While we were there I saw Bill Shannon (aka Crutchmaster) gliding down the street ... I had no clue he was in town again, and it reminded me that I never did send him those pictures I took of him at last summer's Three Rivers Arts Festival ... it may be time to rectify that.
And maybe now, plastic drip-catching bowls securely in place on top of my stove, open wine cooler by my side, it might just be time to catch that movie. Whaddaya think?