I’m anxiously awaiting a one-night houseguest (apartmentguest). The anxious part is because she drove 600 miles yesterday, stopped for the night in the middle of Nebraska, then left this morning with 800 miles to go to get here. She has a dog in tow, she’s “not much of a planner,” and she has another 800 miles to go tomorrow.

When it’s over, I won’t be anxious. I mean that in so goddamn many ways. :sigh:

This.

I’m off to take all my frustrations out on the piano. And paint my nails. Maybe not in that order.