Just another six days.

I am a very, very bad monkey, and a very, very bad best friend. Yesterday my dearest friend in the whole world turned 50 and I totally forgot! I am apologizing publicly to you zitagsd and wish you a wonderful birthday in retrospect, and wish you a whole half-century more of them, at least, in good health and happiness. I suppose a present sent airmail wouldn�t hurt either. Don�t rush me, I�m working on it.

I went to the mall looking for birthday presents for my husband, whose turn it is the day after tomorrow to turn over a new year. He had posted the names of certain CD�s and DVD�s he wants on the fridge door, so I went in search of them and was only able to fine one CD. The DVD was listed in the store�s computer as being present, but it was sadly absent, and all the searching that the nice young man did for me didn�t turn it up. So I bought something else that I think he�ll enjoy and that I�m hoping he doesn�t already have. There�s also the usual datebook for next year, a card, and a cute little nicknack that I picked up at the Hallmark store. It�s one of those totally useless tsatskes that they somehow sucker you into buying because they�re reminiscent of some event in your life. This one is a blown glass palm tree packed in a satin-lined box with a little poem about remembering the joys of vacationing. I know it�ll strike a responsive chord in my Hubby, who starts planning his next Caribbean vacation before the first is over.

He called me rather frantically at noon today, just as my cleaning lady was finishing up. He was due at the rec centre to play squash with one of his colleagues and he had forgotten his sports bag and racket. He couldn�t zoom home in the Volvo because the battery was dead. So I had to take him his things, and then leave the Subaru where he could recharge the other while I was at choir. He now says that it�s not the battery, but some electrical connection in the ignition. I guess I�ve got to stop procrastinating about taking it in to the garage. First the power windows don�t work, now this. There�s just no convenient time for me to do this. Maybe I should hire me a valet of sorts.

After choir I rehearsed briefly with the jazz ensemble, then came home to have a quick bite, and shortly I will be heading back to the music department for the student composers� concert. There is something every single night this week. My plan is to stay healthy until Sunday. On Monday, I can get as sick as I like.

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