Ummmmm, yeah . . . well

I have nothing to say. I could regale you with tales of the last 2 1/2 weeks, but there's not much there. I always hate taking time off because I know that it's both time to relax and time to get stuff done. I've been a little busier than I thought I'd be during this little vacation, which is good. But then I feel like I didn't have enough time to just sit on my ass, which is bad. But then when I sit on my ass, I think I should be doing something, so I lose either way. I start work on Monday, so I guess I can look forward to having a reason to shower before noon.


Although I have nothing of value to say,* I'll say some stuff anyways. Turns out the cleaners that tried to rip me off were as bad as I thought they'd be. A cashmere sweater on a wire hanger? Thanks for the shoulder nipples... I mean, maybe Joan Crawford made the point a little too forcefully, but she had a point. They folded my other sweaters, but not well, so now I have a big crease across the back of each and not even right down the middle. Who doesn't know how to fold in thirds?? And the crease on my pants is quite a crease - like there's cardboard inserts in there. I'm not saying I'd sue the cleaners for $54 million, but I can almost sympathize with the guy who did....

*I'd talk about politics, but then the only thing I'd have to say is that Huckabee intrigues me, but people who have no chance of winning always do; I'd also say that all politicians are shit and I can't be persuaded to think otherwise. Yes, I am a cynical woman, a woman without a party, without a candidate, and without patience to listen to this never-ending campaign of one-liners and assorted shallow claptrap.