Readers who made it through my last post will have read that the Dude forgot our anniversary. A couple of days ago, the Dude inserted himself into a conversation with the babysitter and asked whether she was free to babysit on Thursday night (which, like, he never does). And said he wanted to take me out to dinner on our (second) anniversary, the real date, not like on Friday night when I've booked a hotel room at Capclave for the two of us and booked the babysitter.
You see, Dear Reader, the Dude reads my blog. Not all the time. It just so happens he read my last entry. Which explained the sheepish look on his face. (badda-bing)
Meanwhile, in other news, I have completed two tax returns since the last time I posted. Completed and delivered and thus, my annual tax season whimpers to a stressful close. I survived.
And on Monday, my work group met for a hive mind joint writing session in a coffee place in Leesburg. And I took along my package of Mouse King crits. Did some brainstorming. Didn't hurt too much to look at 'em. But I think I'll need to sit on the floor with all the pages and use scissors to cut them up in order to do the edit's first pass. I need scotch tape, too. Or one of E's many glue sticks.
Cleaned the house some yesterday. Something to do while the last tax return and Mouse King fermented somewhere in my head. The exploded elephant shards in the living room are beginning to annoy me. Need to do something about that. Soon.
And the new cat, Goliath, is pretty much on his own schedule. He's now outdoors all day with the others, wandering in and out at will. Annoyed once we bring him in for the night. Everyone is on their (almost) best behavior.