Ms. Talks to much sponsee called me drunk last night. Two years of listening to her pontificate on her misery and how God has shortchanged her finally came to a head. Sigh.
I found a beautiful purple-ish old drafting paper drawing of some downtown streets in Houston from the 1960's, in an old closet at work. For three weeks I have spent about an hour each evening with a tiny paint brush and white paint, making an intricate small pattern of dots covering the paper. I used it to wrap a gift to my oldest daughter and I hope she sees the love.
All I can say about today being Friday is "it's about damn time."