The Hellhole

Monday, July 12, 2004

Singing in a Bob Geldof voice: I don’t like Mondays, I don’t like Mondays...

I had another three-day weekend because I took Friday off. I went to Athens to have lunch with Nancy and *drum roll* attend my brother’s wedding. It was an informal affair at the courthouse. I realize this is about him and not me, but still it’s weird to think: I have IN-LAWS now. Anyway, he and Sarah are married and I wish them all the best.

Saturday I had dinner with Alan and we sat around watching my old Beavis and Butt-head tapes, laughing our heads off. We’re supposed to get together again this week - YAY! On Sunday there was a Formula One race (Silverstone) won by Michael Schumacher. No, as a matter of fact I’m not getting tired of typing that outcome. Forza Ferrari!!! I didn’t do anything exciting on Sunday other than watch the race, sleep and talk to Cheryl.

Cheryl’s been spending every Sunday (some Saturdays too) cleaning out all her stuff that’s been stored for ages at her parents’ house, now that they’ve moved to a new place up near Chateau Elan. It’s hot, dusty, hard work for her, besides the emotional upheaval of moving away from the place, together with her grandparents’ next door, where she spent her childhood. I wish she’d let me help her but there’s black mold in the basement so she refuses to let her allergy-prone friend anywhere near the place.

Onward to the pile o’crap that accumulated in my absence on Friday. I suspect there is a desk somewhere underneath it.

MONTOYA DELENDA EST!

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