It’s only Wednesday (affectionately known as Hump Day by closeted perverts who sport a mental erection at the double entendre), and I’m thinking about the weekend. No big set-in-stone plans, but Dan and I were thinking about hitting the Ohio State Fair on Sunday and got invited to go boating on Saturday.
Both sound fun, but after the trip to Toledo last weekend and burning the proverbial candle at both ends this week, spending at least ONE day in boxer shorts alternating between the bed and DVR sounds really appealing.
I have plenty of reasons that I won’t go into here to hate my life right now, yet I’m still very happy and often find a smile creeping up on my face. From my last few posts, I’m confident you can do the rudimentary math and put two and two together.
Tonight we were driving in my car, listening to a CD that *I* burned (we’ve been listening to the mix tape he made me). It was a mix of some of my favorite 80s music, and Dan turned to me and said, “Who are you? We have the same taste in music.” Which, turns out, is rather eclectic.
It was a good evening, topped off with some cake batter ice cream.