Two days have whizzed by since we returned from Florida. The trip home was itself a small slice of hell. Our plane was four hours late leaving the airport, meaning we didn't arrive home until 2:00 a.m. To add insult to injury, we had to dig the Charger out from under eight inches of snow that had fallen in our absence. Jim's peronalized license plate on the car was the only thing visible, and it's message (In Chrg) was an ironic reminder of how little we really are- in charge, that is. Not of the weather, certainly, for it has continued it's snowy, blustery, murkiness ever since we got home. The snow was swirling like a dervish this morning and there were cars spun out all over the road as I made my way to the office.
Not of our jobs, either, for mine has continued on it's perilous spin out of control. Work, work, work...and never get caught up. A control freak's nightmare.
But enough of all that. It's Friday night, I'm home safe and sound with lots of recorded stuff on the TiVo. Who watchs Big Love out there? Did you see last Sunday's episode? I was riveted to my chair - what will happen to those Henrickson's next, I ask you?
I had two books waiting for me in the mail delivery - copies for review later on this month over at Bookstack. As well as a shipment of my favorite coffee, to keep me warm and caffienated while I read.
Small and simple pleasures, but all part of the daily grind of which I am at least a little bit in charge.