Friday, December 09, 2005


They called us last night to let us know that we'd have one today. There is no sweeter a sound than that phone call. And no sweeter voice than the twangy, southern drawl of our secretary, uttering those 3 sweet little words: NO SCHOOL TOMORROW.

So my lazy ass remained in bed until 10:00. And it felt GOOOOD.

Paid a visit to The Brit the other night to collect my Christmas decorations. I'd left them in the attic while moving out last spring. Who the hell wanted to think about Christmas then? But while fixin' to decorate this year's tree, I noticed some of my best crap was missing -- hence the visit. When I got there, he answered the door wearing a fleece coat, gloves and a hat. Because it was 42 degrees. INSIDE the house.

MORAL: When you don't have a job, you don't get paid money. And then you can't pay bills. Like the oil bill. And then you can't get oil for heat. So your house gets really cold. And you have to wear gloves and a hat inside. For four days.

The above concept is logical - even to a 6-year old. But apparently not to 40-year old Brits.


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