I just spoke to the Mrs. She's in Kansas City awaiting her connection to BWI, where I will be picking her up at 10:50pm. Five days without Cha is bad for me. I turn more hermit-y and curmudgeon-y than usual.
An example: Saturday night when I got home from Yahtzee's I found some dude leaving the party next door kicking cans and empty cups into my yard. I leapt the fence between our yards and chased him down the alley. For some reason he started screaming "NIGEL! NIGEL!" and he fled across Burke Ave. into the darkness. I don't know what I would have done had I caught him--perhaps put my shoe up his ass while saying "Nigel can't help you now." I returned to my yard to find Greg from next door looking out his kitchen window at the yard. I picked up the cans and the cups and threw them back over the fence, glaring at my young nemesis, who wisely remained indoors. Two days earlier I'd found a smashed forty ouncer in my flower bed--my tolerance is wearing thin. Only I am permitted to dispose of forty ounce bottles in this manner!
three hours to Cha