Sunday, August 02, 2020

Day 141


Day 141, self quarantine:

Sunday, August 2, 2020

Happy Sunday, I hate Trump so much I have never meditated on someone’s “resignation” so much in my life.

I’ve got a voodoo doll and some ancient curses. He’s out of our lives soon.

If you haven’t done so recently, take a look at his Twitter feed.  It should be required reading for all Americans as a matter of national security.

He’s batshit crazy with either dementia or unchecked venereal disease, I have no idea, but it’s something pretty terrible.

He is not normal.  

Get him out of the White House before he kills us all.

God knows he’s trying.

He doesn’t acknowledge 150K dead Americans or 40 million Americans out of work.

He has NO PLAN.

$600 Federal unemployment and eviction moratoriums ended Friday.

He has NO PLAN.


Coronavirus is raging across America.



 What plan does he have?

Canceling the election.

Or so he thinks.

Meanwhile, look at his hand in this picture yesterday.

What the hell happened?

No mention of it anywhere this morning.

My God he’s hideous.

People, I’m sorry for this post but local news isn’t cutting it. You need to know what’s going on.

And for god sakes, wear a mask and self quarantine whenever possible.

I want to be able to hug my kids again.

Talk to you tomorrow when I’m not so furious.

Saturday, August 01, 2020

Day 140


Day 140, self quarantine:

Saturday, August 1, 2020

Wow, it’s August.

I’ve now been in quarantine since March.

March, April, May, June, July, August

My god.

I don’t even discuss or worry about going back to my real office with my boss or husband anymore.

It’s never happening.  I know that now and I’m at peace with it.

Okay, well, let’s just pretend 2020 didn’t happen and we’ll reset in January, 2021.

If only all Americans could quarantine until then, we could stop the bleeding caused by the gross mismanagement of the virus earlier this year.  See:  Donald Trump.

I now call him PotusVirus on Twitter.

What a terrible, terrible man.  

One hundred fifty thousand dead Americans.

What a terrible, terrible waste of human lives.

Six months into this thing and my mind is completely boggled he’s still in the White House and not in prison.

Just incredible.

Anyhoo, enough of that.  

Guess what?

I get to see Julie today!

And so does everyone:


The live, 90 minute show begins at 6:00 p.m. eastern.

Julie will be playing her own music, plus something very special.

Think Chris Squire.

I’m unreasonably excited.

I also got an email that Eric and Dr. Dog are doing a live stream tomorrow but that can’t be right.

Because Eric told me that, assuming the Covid-19 test he took yesterday is negative, he will be in Philadelphia on Thursday and Friday on some personal business.

I know.  “If his test is negative” almost sent  me spiraling into another panic attack but not before I ran around the house excitedly yapping “Eric is coming!  Eric is coming!”

The poor dog thought I meant Eric was here now and he raced to the door, barking like a maniac.

Jake loves his kids.

Anyway, fingers crossed it happens.  Six months without seeing our son has been unbelievable  agony for Gary and me.  I don’t talk about it much here because what’s the point?  

It’s best to be positive and not waste energy lamenting things you cannot fix, right?  Right.

Hey, I always have the news on  in the background and here’s something good for a change...Pier 1 lives!

Haha yep, I loved Pier I since I was a young hippie teenager in the early seventies  looking for cool stuff for my first apartment with Gary.  They opened one of their very first stores in a strip mall in northeast Philadelphia.

Back then teenagers could afford stuff like that.

Truth:  We rented a two bedroom apartment with an in-ground swimming pool across the street from a gorgeous park for $150 a month.

All decorated with candles, posters and hookahs from Pier 1.

As Gary and I matured, so did Pier 1.  They  became a national big box store, and started selling expensive furniture and dinnerware but they kept their funky side and it’s been Gary’s go to place for gifts for me for fifty years.

I should have known how ominous 2020 would be when in December, 2019 Gary said to me, shocked, “I went to Pier 1 to get you some Christmas presents and I think they’re out of business!”

“Right before Christmas?  That’s impossible,” I said, grabbing my phone.

Omg.

Our Pier 1 in Philadelphia was closed and stores all across the country were closing.

Look, I’m old.  I don’t need any more trinkets for the house, I’m attempting to do the opposite.

But it still pained me the store was gone.

Anyway, now it’s back, someone bought them, and they’re going to have expanded online shopping.

So that makes me happy even though I will most likely never buy anything 😂

I wonder, if when all the smoke clears from this pandemic and we resume our lives, if we will see the return of mom and pop stores.

To me, that would be the best silver lining to this nightmare.

Gary and I vowed to avoid corporate big box stores whenever possible but during quarantine, it’s been rough and we haven’t been able to do it.

Oh well, we’ll keep trying.

Anyway, before I start cleaning my house and put on Season 3 of Top Chef, I want to apologize for my vegan remark yesterday.  

I aspire to be a vegan but I can’t or I guess won’t give up eggs or cheese.  Vegans have my highest respect.  My remarks yesterday were meant more as a dig to Gary who brought me home a cake with butter and sour cream and tried to pass it off as vegan when he knows better and clearly knows the difference.  In fact, because I take medication for genetic high cholesterol, Gary always buys me vegan cake because if I eat too much butter, I get sick.

Soooo....sorry if it appeared I was mocking vegans.  I knew about applesauce and mashed bananas because that’s what we use when we bake at Casa Slick 🤗

Anyway, now I’m hungry for banana bread.

Happy Saturday, everyone!

Friday, July 31, 2020

Day 139


Day 139, self quarantine:

Friday, July 31, 2020

Woo, I am really happy to see Friday.  This was a tough week.

So yesterday Gary came home with a “vegan” cake from the farmers market and I remembered it was 
Julie’s half birthday so we celebrated with ice cream and blackberries, too, because why the hell not.

There’s quotes around vegan because that’s what Gary told me it was.

However, after one forkful...

“Mmm!  This cake is delicious! This is vegan?  It tastes like there’s a pound of butter in here.”  I looked at Gary skeptically.

“It’s vegan!  The lady I bought it from calls herself the Vegan Baker.”

I took another forkful.  Was that sour cream?  This was like the best pound cake I ever ate in my life.  No fucking way was it made with applesauce or mashed bananas or any other plant life vegans like to fantasize taste like fat.

“Where’s the wrapper?  I want to see the ingredients.”

“It’s vegan,” Gary insisted. 

“Sure it is.  Where’s the wrapper?”  I was already in the kitchen, I had it in my hands.

“Sugar...vanilla...flour...butter....sour cream.”

Haha, sour cream.  I’m good.

“Gar, the label says she’s the Vegetarian Baker.”

“Okay, sorry, I thought she said vegan.  She’s a vegetarian baker.”

Now normally I’d make a remark isn’t all cake vegetarian, but having been unwittingly poisoned by banana chocolate chip bread pudding made with bacon fat at North Third  Cafe...

Bacon fat in dessert.  Who fucking came up with that travesty.

I never really got over the trauma.

Anyway, yeah, the pound cake was beyond delicious.

And the ice cream was vegan and the blackberries organic so in the world according to Robin, that mitigated the damage of the butter and sour cream.

“I bet that means there’s no lard in her cakes,” Gary added helpfully.

“Ew, thanks, I never even considered lard.”  Yeah, yeah, I know it makes a flaky pie crust but ew, I can’t, I’ve been a vegetarian for over ten years.

Anyway, I highly recommend having cake and ice cream on a weeknight for no apparent reason though it was kinda funny that I remembered about Julie cos’ cake and ice cream will always remind me of birthday parties.

Speaking of parties, I’m throwing the biggest one in history, even if it’s just Gary and me, when that motherfucker resigns next week.

Oh, it’s happening.

We’re gonna have French fries AND pound cake.

In other news, how do you like my rainbow fork?  Gary came home from Aldi last week with an entire 40 piece service for eight. Forks, salad forks, tablespoons etc.

😂😂😂😂😂

Julie and Eric, I apologize in advance.  I promise I will prepare Codicils to our Wills so you can easily find the good stuff and just hire a few hundred people to remove everything else.

Aw, I kid.  I like the kitschy rainbow Aldi silverware.  It’s been making me smile since he brought it home.

I just know I’m weeks away from seeing an article about someone whose entire house is furnished in Aldi.

Oh god, it’s me, isn’t it.

Haha oh I’m kidding.

Anyhoo...

I’m a little giddy today.  No idea why, I just am, I guess it’s because the new bird feeder and bird bath will be here and as long as it’s not monsooning, I will be outside talking to the birds all weekend.

It could be a lot worse.

I could be Melania.

Ew, no, I could never be Melania, I’d rather be deep fried alive.

Kinda the way her husband’s been looking the last couple of days.

Woo, when caked orange clown makeup gets sweaty wet, it’s all kinds of vomitatious, huh.

Oh well.  So that’s yet another thing to be grateful for.

I am not Escort Barbie Melania.

And with that, I’m off to the paralegal gig 😜

Happy Friday!



Thursday, July 30, 2020

Day 138


Day 138, self quarantine:

Thursday, July 30, 2020

Omg, this week isn’t over yet? 

Haha, I’m spoiled by three Fridays in a row off but this Friday is my boss’ getaway day before vacation and next Friday he’s away, so my Fridays off are on hold until my next vacation day on Friday, August 14.

After which I’m also taking Monday, August 17 off as one does on their birthday.

Oh cool I get a Zoom birthday this year.

Actually, Zoom would be more than I usually have.  Julie and Eric are always on tour during the summer.  I don’t remember the last time I had everyone here on my actual birthday.

And I’m just kidding about Zoom.  FaceTime works fine.

I’m laughing because every year for my birthday I usually buy myself something cool, usually handmade jewelry I find on Etsy and this year I’m like, jewelry, what’s that?

Etsy also sells homemade baked goods and chocolate, did you know that?

Go to Etsy and type “homemade dessert” in the search bar if you’re a freak like me and want to spend an enjoyable couple of hours.

I’m not doing it, I have Gary. 

But I get ideas from looking and all I have to do is say Strawberry mousse cups with milk chocolate and he’ll be all over it.

What’s really crazy is that despite all my talk about desserts, I notice I’m losing my sweet tooth during quarantine.  I’d rather eat spicy food and tart fruit.  Go figure.

I want French fries all the time.

Okay, that’s always been the case but still.

Let’s see, what else.

There’s a lot of bad stuff in the news today but Donald is dragging his right leg, sweating profusely, slurring his words, and making less sense than usual.

We may be getting lucky.  

Yesterday he tweeted this:

“I am happy to inform all of the people living their Suburban Lifestyle Dream that you will no longer be bothered or financially hurt by having low income housing built in your neighborhood. Your housing prices will go up based on the market, and crime will go down. I have rescinded the Obama-Biden AFFH Rule. Enjoy!”

He’s doing the White Nationalist thing in broad daylight now.

He’s a stone cold racist.

If you still support him, so are you.

In my mind, with 150K Covid deaths in this country, he’s also the worst PERSON, not just President, in American history.

Okay, just so you know where I stand on this.

Sigh.

In better news, our new bird feeder will be here today.  At first Gary got annoyed when I told him, but after despondently realizing that only Steve and Eydie were eating from his feeders the last two days...maybe because he BOUGHT squirrel feeders, Gary is now excited an award winning feeder designed for cardinals only is on its way here.

And yesterday...heart be still...I made serious progress toward Gary getting an iPhone.

“Where are you going?” he asked me frantically yesterday at 2:00 p.m.

I looked at him strangely.

“Uh...upstairs back to work? It’s 2:00.  Lunch is over.”

“Lou is here with the guys!  Can you leave your phone here so I can get some pics?”

“No, I can’t leave my phone here!  My boss texts me, my coworkers text me, and clients call me.”

“Oh.”

He looked so dejected, I went for it.

“I really don’t understand why you won’t let me get you an iPhone.  You’re a rebel without a cause.  You can’t text with the kids, you can’t take pics or record video when you walk Jake, you call me from your 15 year old flip phone and you yell at me when we can’t hear each other like it’s my fault. It’s not like you’re working anymore and your coworkers will tease you that you’re no longer a hippie because you have an iPhone...”

I looked at him hopefully.  I’ve been attempting this for how many years now?

I went in for the kill.

“You’ll be able to communicate with all the people you won’t see at music fantasy camp this summer.”

Gary blushed and gave me a sheepish half smile.

He didn’t say no.

I think this is gonna happen.

Oh man.  I had to get back to work after having two unproductive days.

I’m gonna bring it up again. This time I will talk about the safety aspect and why he needs a WORKING phone.

Also the fact he won’t have to use a 12 year old Garmin navigation system in our car, though what worries me is our Lexus has built in navigation and Gary spitefully never learned how to use that, either.

Because hippies don’t need up to date navigation systems.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Oy.  My life.

People, remember this.  The grass is never greener.

And on that note, I better get my head in gear for another super early start at work.

Rock on!

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

Day 137

Day 137, self quarantine:

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

Working in Julie’s room
Is so fun - it’s like being set down in this insanely awesome flea market.  I can’t believe she left all this cool stuff behind!



I had the feather boa the mannequin is wearing wrapped around Jake for a brief second but he immediately shook it off and shot me the look you see in the photo.



Haha the same look as when I wore the hats and danced around him.  



“What fresh hell is this?”

Sigh...I know.  I completely lost my mind yesterday.

It actually all started Monday.

I innocently went on line to fill prescriptions for my blood pressure/heart medication, just like I do every month.  I hit submit.

Five minutes later I got an email saying my prescriptions couldn’t be refilled.

Since my prescriptions are good until the end of October and I pretty much need them to live, I got a little upset.

Which isn’t good if you have high blood pressure and an irregular heartbeat and only have one pill each left and the last place you want to go during a pandemic is a hospital.

I’ll spare you the details of the massive computer glitch that said I had two different insurance coverages for prescriptions and my exasperation that I couldn’t just freaking pay cash until the insurance was resolved, although when I learned what it cost, jfc, I better never be without insurance.

Anyway, this debacle started Monday morning and didn’t get resolved until 3:30 yesterday when Gary was finally able to pick up my pills.

I kept apologizing to my boss but I was literally on the phone for two days.

By the 87th conference call with all kinds of assorted insurance  people, I cracked.

I could have started hollering and cursing and driven up my blood pressure a little more.

Instead I threw my hands up in the air, cranked up the music, and put on some hats I’d been eyeing in Julie’s room since I first set up my office in here.

What else could I do?

Haha, prior to quarantine, I was pretty vain.  The fact that I’m posting these hat pics unfiltered proves I no longer care about such mundane things as clean hair or real clothing and I have zero fucks left to give.

It’s so damn liberating I can’t even begin to tell you.

And then I went downstairs to watch my birds and omg, I can’t even believe what happened next.

Lou flew right up to our screen door, chirped really loudly, and looked in at us.

“Did you see that?” Gary gasped.

“I did!  Omg, Gary, it must be mating season!  He came looking for you!”

And then Lou came back with two friends!  Or family members, who knows, what I do know is they’re all guys, based on what Google tells me about cardinals.

Wait, three cardinals — does that mean we get 3x the luck?

Three resignations?  Alright!

I’ll take Donald, Mike Pence and Bill Barr.

Gary was pissed, the birds didn’t eat any food from the feeder but that’s because he bought the wrong one and that should be rectified today or tomorrow when evil Amazon delivers the correct one to me.

I also got us a birdbath.

Anyway, yeah, we had three cardinals in our yard at once. So why didn’t I get a pic of Lou, Ted and Murray?

Because my phone was in use, listening to BBC Scotland.

I know, right?

Eric texted me that he was just tagged in a tweet from Roddy Hart, a DJ at Radio Scotland, that he was about to play some music from Eric Slick.

I immediately went on Twitter like I wasn’t there already, found the tweet, followed the link, and listened live.

It’s so surreal that we can do things like that.

Anyway, he played Closer to Heaven!  It sounded AMAZING.  It hasn’t been played here yet so it was awesome to hear it on BBC radio...and then after the song, the DJ went on and on about Eric and Natalie, and about how Eric is the happiest drummer he ever saw play live.

And he said all this in the coolest Scottish accent.

Gary and I got all teary eyed.

How incredible that I wrapped up 24 hours of misery with something so awesome.

And that’s why I didn’t get pics of Lou, Ted or Murray yesterday.

But I will.

And I’m really grateful.  I know that I’m blessed to be able to walk away from a crap day via three cardinals in my yard and my son and daughter-in-law on BBC radio.

I mean, really.

And then Gary made breakfast for dinner and we had home fries and cinnamon toast with our eggs so, no, it doesn’t get any better.

Well, if there wasn’t a pandemic and we were on a beach somewhere with our family...

So really, the only thing that sucks is I’m currently two days behind at work.  Not good.  But I know what I have to do today, I simply need to focus and get it done.

I will.

I just can’t try on any hats today.

The trick will be to still do that mentally.

Okay then!

Carry on, my wayward ones.

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

Day 136


Day 136, self quarantine:

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

Woo, lots happening today.

Thank goddess Mercury is finally out of retrograde.

First, hockey pre-season starts today, unless someone on the Flyers tests positive between now and 4:00 tonight.

We should have an over/under pool.

“You excited?” I asked Gary.

“Not really.  I mean, I’ll watch and everything.  It’s on early, right?  Because we need to watch Frontline at 10:00, it’s called The United States of Conspiracy and it’s all about Trump.”

I tried not to smile too condescendingly.  I’ve been living with Trump 24/7 for almost four years and I’m exhausted beyond belief.  To see Gary the political newbie so freshly indignant by all things Donald is adorable.

I’m no longer even a little bit shocked he’s throwing hockey over for politics, either, but assuming this aborted season actually has a Stanley Cup final and the Flyers are in it, I’m pretty positive pre-apocalypse Gary will make a return appearance.

Today is also the day Bill Barr testifies before the House Judiciary Committee.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

First of all, who really thinks he’s showing up?

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Who thinks if he shows up, he’s going to say anything earth shattering?

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Who thinks if he shows up and says something earth shattering, it won’t be an outrageous lie or conspiracy theory?

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Who among us isn’t going to start singing the Beatles’ I am the Walrus the minute Bill Barr does or does not start speaking?

“I am the egg man...they are the egg men...I am the walrus...goo goo g’joob.”

Okay, I’ll stop.

But I’m sorry, the dude is evil as hell AND resembles a walrus.

It’s my journal.  I calls it as I sees it.

So what else is today?

Hockey, Frontline, Barr...maybe that’s it but the day is young.

Gary procured our bird feeders yesterday and I’m now officially a loony old lady birdwatcher.

Omg, I love it.

We had all kinds of visitors throughout the day.  I got excited like a little kid.

When Lou swung by and sat on the buddha’s head, I completely lost it.  It’s now my life’s mission to get a better picture than the one I posted in comments yesterday:


Gary is amused.

“You didn’t watch birds when you were a kid?  What kind of childhood did you have?”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“You know all about it, you were there for most of it.  But aside from that, little girls in the early sixties didn’t bird watch.  We did things like play with paper dolls and make potholders out of rags.”

“You did not,” Gary said.

“Ugh, I tried to enjoy stuff like that but I was a twisted child. Bird watching would have been a nice respite from pretending my bedroom was an apartment in someone else’s house.  Or was that in France?   I forget.”

“Pretty sure you told me it was the suburbs.”

Gary held up his arms to deflect my imaginary blow to his head.

“Well, whatever, I wasn’t even ten and I was already plotting my own place for a rendezvous with John, George and/or Paul.”

“Ringo must have been crushed,” Gary said, shaking his head.

“He looked too much like one of my relatives.”

Yep, we’re now bantering with each other, too, probably to keep from killing each other, dying of boredom, or both.

Yikes.

So yeah, birdwatching.  Wow.  I can unequivocally say, 100%, that birdwatching is something I never would have gotten into before quarantine.

Now, I’ve spent the last two days obsessed.

How about that.

If this apocalypse lasts much longer, I’ll be canning tomatoes and sewing a quilt.

Hmmm.

Oh well.  For now I’m still a productive member of society suing people.

I’ll let Gary do the canning and sewing.

Okay, okay.  Off I go.

And if you’re feeling blue today, remember, Lou is promising Donald’s resignation next month.

Have faith! 😎

Monday, July 27, 2020

Day 135


Day 135, self quarantine:


So here’s a fun fact I learned during quarantine: Gary really does have conversations with birds and now they visit him daily, too.

Yesterday, I looked out back and did a double-take.

“Gary!  You’ve gotta see this! Omg there’s a bright red tropical bird in our yard!”

Gary laughed.  “That’s Lou. Lou’s a cardinal.  He’s been coming around since I installed Flo back there,” he said, pointing to the pink metal flamingo he brought home from Aldi a few weeks ago.

“Lou?  His name is Lou?”

“It’s short for Louis.”

Okay, my husband is a lunatic but I guess I am, too, because I got it.

St. Louis Cardinals, duh.

“That’s amazing, Gary.  Did you know that cardinals are spiritual messengers and when a cardinal visits, they bring good luck?”


“Really?”  Gary’s whole face li up.  He was into it.

Don’t forget, he’s still a hippie who never left 1969.

“Yep.  I just looked it up.  We’re gonna have good luck at noon, midnight, or within twelve days.  Ooh, ooh, it also says the cardinal is our late loved ones letting us know everything is going to be okay.”

“Oh yeah?  Where were they yesterday when you were dry heaving into a paper bag?”

I made a face at him.

“You know you believe this stuff, Gary.  You’re the one who freaking talks to birds.”

But now I’m wondering if the cardinal is visiting because of Flo or us.

Actually, Flo is the last thing a cardinal wants to see.  


So it IS my mother!  Hi, mom!

Oh.  It’s probably Gary’s mom.

Hi, Grandmom!  

(Because I have issues, I didn’t call Gary’s mother anything until the kids were born, thus “Grandmom” 😂)

But wait, if the cardinal came today to let us know everything is okay after I thought I had coronavirus and had a horrible anxiety attack Saturday, then it’s gotta be my mom.

Yeah, I’m going with that.

Besides, she was a redhead at various points in her thirties.

With everything going on, I’ll take whatever good luck this family can get right now.

Holy cow, it says if you regularly feed cardinals, they take up residence in your garden permanently.

Omg, I’m sending Gary out for a bird feeder and food ASAP.

I cannot begin to tell you how gorgeous this bird is.  At one point it flew so close to me I was too startled to get a pic and then it just kept flying from tree to tree until it finally landed long enough for me to get a decent shot through the screen door after we went back inside.

The entire time Gary and the bird were yapping back and forth with each other and oh crap, why didn’t I take video?

Welp, to be fair, I didn’t have time to react, the whole event was over in seconds. 

Insert gross sex with Donald simile here.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

“So when did you learn how to speak cardinal?” I asked Gary.

You’d think after fifty years you’d know a guy.

“It was around ten years ago or whenever I went down to Nashville to help Julie and Adrian out at Studio Belew. Julie was doing some engineering work and I drilled holes for cables and stuff.  I would sit on Ade’s deck in the morning and all of these crazy birds were out there.  I started imitating their calls back to them and within minutes I had this whole Bird Man of Alcatraz thing going on. So now I talk to birds all the time and it’s why I get pissed when you throw out the bread ends without asking because I feed them every day.”

“Well, jeez, you could have told me about the bread.”

“I did.  Like 100 times.”

Oy.  He’s right.  But honestly, if I’m not a drill sergeant doing clean up behind him in the kitchen, terrible, terrible things happen.

Anyway, my husband talks to animals.  When I walk Jake with him, literally every dog in dog park runs up to greet Gary, not Jake.  It’s hilarious. Gary knows all their names.

“Hey, Winston, how’s that arthritis?  Phoebe!  You got a haircut!  Don’t you look beautiful!”

Phoebe literally got down and rolled over on her back on top of Gary’s feet.

He scratched her tummy and she made all kinds of happy sounds.

These are Gary’s people.

I’m hoping if god forbid Trump gets re-elected and his secret police come for me for calling Donald Tiny Penis Man, Grandpa Crazypants, and Bunker Boi on Twitter, Gary will let out an S.O.S. whistle to all of his friends in the animal kingdom and they’ll swoop down and rescue me from the clutches of the evil putrid Trump Republicans and/or Trump’s secret police.

But not before pecking out their eyes and ripping out their tongues.

Wait, wasn’t that a movie?

If not, it should be.

So we didn’t have good luck at noon or midnight yesterday - I guess it’s coming within the next twelve days.

Hear that, Donald?  You’re resigning by August 7, 2020.

Be happy I said resigning.  I’m really thinking way worse.

Oy, can you tell I’m not feeling my paralegal gig this morning? 

I want to spend today out in the yard listening to Gary talk to birds.

Oh well.  Some day soon.

Very soon 😜.

In the meantime, hey ho, it’s off to work I go.

Have an awesome Monday.