I'm not going to say I'm looking forward to the upcoming week, but I'm not dreading it. That's something, right? Right? Meh. It's better than nothing.
Huh. I thought I had more to say, but I guess not. After doing little other than run errands after work Friday night, I went to see my goddaughter play basketball late Saturday morning. Then, I hung out with The Boy I Currently Like last night and today and had a really fucking great time. And I got awesome Christmas presents. Today I did laundry (mmmmmmm, clean sheets!), made a week's worth of oatmeal and cut up salad components.
Man, how did it come to this? How did the above paragraph come to constitute a good weekend? I'd say getting old sucks if I didn't have such a great time doing everything I did this weekend.
PS: Reuben, I finally got around to mailing your package yesterday. I'm very sorry it took so long.