A day in the life.

My son, my baby, is 19 today. If my father had lived this long, he would have been 95. Damn.

Anyway, even with my alarm set for 7:30, I awoke closer to 6:00 a.m. with a menopause moment, could not get back to sleep, and so played computer games until it was a reasonable breakfast hour. I finished typing up my Latin assignment, emailed it to my prof, taught my last lesson for the semester, took Buddy Boy out to Costco (where he helped me with the heavy lifting) and the mall (where I bought him lunch and a nice leather jacket to replace the one that was stolen--it’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it sometime). We came home, put away groceries, I collapsed for a snooze, then went to the restaurant for a 5:00 p.m. reservation, ate, drank, made merry, returned home for cake and presents, then went out again for one of Hubby’s graduating students’ thesis presentation, thence to his house for a party (his mother is a wonderful woman who talked my ear off), followed by a quick visit to the pub where Buddy Boy was partying down with his friends, and several other young people we knew were also imbibing and having a riotous good time.

Home again, the dishwasher is going through its paces, and I’m going to bed. G’night!

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