Thanksgiving four-day weekend flew by between dinners at my mom's, at Josie's, and finally at Diehard's dad's house. We started eating turkey and pie at the north end of the valley at 5 and had gobbled our way down to the south-east by 10. "Gobble" -- get it? Oh YES, lame word-play, I'm all about it!
And then on Sunday morning there was the small plumbing situation at the glorious villa apartments where I reside. The post-traumatic stress still lingers, so let's just say that glancing down as one showers and watching rust-colored water ooze up the freaking drain is hurl-inducing. At least I was not alone; a gaggle of dripping wet neighbors in robes and/or hastily thrown-on t-shirts and shorts were already outside the apartment manager's office when I got there.
I'm also post-Thanksgiving thankful that my weekend wasn't a blazing hell of a lot worse. Monday morning December 1st, one of Slick's client's arrived half an hour early for his appointment. He left his sunglasses on as he slumped into a chair. I cheerily offered him a cup of freshly brewed coffee with a smile and was about to launch into perky half-hour-killing chatter when he took off his sunglasses. His black-and-blue swollen-shut eye froze me mid-sentence. He smiled weakly, and I poured him some coffee without saying a word; the man needed some quiet time to blank out after most likely explaining the shiner more than once or twice and to various law enforcement personnel.
Slick didn't appear surprised by his client's appearance when he arrived, greeting the man with an "Oh, hi ... yeah, follow me." The client put down his cup, which he'd been clutching to chest like a disaster victim at a storm shelter, and meekly followed Slick into his office.
Besides that, nothing dramatically blog-worthy happened last week, but lots and lots, and lots, of holiday and post-election-volunteering work. I've been keeping my three-times a week two-mile track run commitment. Oh yeah, I'm aiming to run the Palm Springs half-marathon in February. And the Women Running Wild 5K in March is tempting, but I don't know if I can put my bowed legs through the abuse it would take to not be embarrassed by straggling waaaaaay behind the narrow-hipped, gazelle-legged type-A runners 5K's attract.
Anyway, that's all for now; feel free to hit the sack. Hope this thrill-filled post didn't scare the sandman away ^_^