Speedy Recovery

Johnny's shoulder is a lot better this morning and he is going to work. Thanks for the "holy moly"s and the silly jokes.

Also, Andy (remember Andy?) got himself too drunk to drive home last night, so he let himself in our back door and crashed out in our guest room. At 1:30 in the morning.

Back door = about ten feet from my sleeping head.

Man walking in back door at 1:30 in the morning = me, peeing myself.

Whose fault was it the back door was open in the first place? Mine. I'll post the pictures later of what I was doing out there. And anyway, I would much rather wet the bed than let Andy drive all the way to Indian Country* in that condition.

(*This is not a racist comment. They are building an Indian Casino in the town where Andy lives. Maybe. If the stupid Governor doesn't beat them to it.)

But also, guest bed = one flimsy wall away from my no-longer sleeping head.

And Andy = big fat snorer.

So I haven't slept a winky-wink. But at least I know that I will no longer be trying to convince Johnny to move his snoring ass off the futon and into the guest bedroom. Someday we're going to build closets along that wall in the guest room, which will accomplish a lot in terms of sound proofing. But there are a lot of days between now and someday, and in the meantime:

Me = ran out of coffee yesterday.

I knew this, but I thought I had a spare can in the hall cupboard (also known as the attic staircse. And yes, I drink canned coffee. So?). But I don't. Have a spare, that is. I guess I only bought one can the last time. Because, oh yeah, that's right, somebody told me she bought me some when she went to New Orleans...

So I'm drinking the ass end of Johnny's year-old Dunkin' Donuts that I dug out of the freezer. This is the pound of coffee that I spilled jelly beans into at Easter (don't ask me how, I don't even remember) and I thought it would be funny to see Johnny's face when he found them in there so I didn't pick them out. And then I forgot I'd done it, and I was away for the weekend when he found them, and he got all freaked out and called Dunkin Donuts headquarters and yelled at them about why were there jelly beans in his coffee, and they sent him a ten-dollar gift card, which I believe we spent on bagels and cream cheese one weekend when we had guests. There might even still be a couple bagels in the freezer from then. Bleah.

Anway, what was I saying? How did I get here? Oh, so the Asian Market where I buy my coffee doesn't open until 9:30 (stupid Asian hours). I was so planning on coming home from dropping Johnny and snuggling back into bed and enjoying what I hope will be my last day of injured reserve in a way I couldn't really enjoy the first what with not being able to walk and everything. But now I have to decide whether being lazy today is more important than having coffee to drink tomorrow.

Which is so not what I intended this post to be about when I began.

I was really just writing to say "Johnny's okay. Thanks. And I swear to god I'll finish the post about the heat later this morning. Not that you probably even care about it anymore. But I do. So there."


Andy's awake. He just walked in here and scared the piss out of me again. He says my typing woke him. Gee, sorry. He says my fingers on the keyboard sound like a rat or a hamster trying to get out of its cage.

Thanks, Andy!