I'm going to work tomorrow, and I can't wait.
I was a waste of my company's money after lunch, so I cut out early. No use being there if I'm not earning my keep, and the boss gave me permission to come in tomorrow. I'll end up getting overtime anyway.
Headed to the Baptist church and played their Steinway for a couple of hours. Very therapeutic. Practiced Bach for a while, then broke out one of the church's hymnals and played country-gospel versions of hymns for an hour or more. You would've thought a down-home revival was going on in there.
It's amazing how well I'm playing ... I literally did not touch a piano between April 14 and last Monday (other than to move George from one room to another, and to dust him occasionally). Then I practiced every day this week. As usual, an extended break has done me good. I'll never get to the Cliburn amateurs' competition at this rate, but such is life.
Anyway, I headed home after that. Stopped to say hi to my friend Donna, then made the long drive back to my little mountain town. Got home, flopped down on the couch, and slept for three hours.
So I'm going back to work tomorrow, and I can't wait. I'm so looking forward to (1) being out of this house, and (2) getting some quality work done, something I've had trouble doing this week, what with so many meetings and so much multi-tasking. I doubt seriously that anyone else will be at the office tomorrow, so I'll have the place all to myself. A few productive hours with FrameMaker will do my little workaholic heart good.
So that's the view from here. Oh, the Hubster's car got towed today, and we'll get a tax write-off for donating it to charity. And I had a major meltdown last night and cried for five hours. Today at work my friend Broccoli asked me, "Why is your face so puffy?" I cracked, "I'm just having a bad-face day." I laughed in spite of myself.
So it's 8:02 p.m. and I'm in my jammie j's (thanks, J, for adding that word to my vocabulary) and going to bed. I want to be up early. Lots of work to do tomorrow.