No, no, I'm not complaining.... It's the title of the George Carlin HBO special I watched this afternoon. Hubby had doctor's appointments and some errands to take care of earlier, so I spent the morning curled up on the couch listening to the ever cynical George and some equally funny but distinctly less vulgar Bill Cosby skits. (Chocolate cake for breakfast, anyone?) Every now and again I go on a comedian binge-I finally introduced S to the wonders of Eddie Izzard, and pretty soon I'll strap him down for a Monty Python fest as well. How he's managed to go this long without watching the Holy Grail with me at least once, I'll never know. Shameful oversight on my part, really.
Anywho, meager preparations are being made for the move to almost-Mexico... We're hesistant to really dig in with a will quite yet, though, because Smiley Surgeon and Physical Therapy Guru have made noises about us preparing for civilian life once again. (Can I get a Hallelujah???) Nothing concrete, mind, but enough that we're both on edge and waiting for some solid news. Of course we won't hear anything particularly final until about a week or two before The Move, as per military standard, but it's an exciting thought nonetheless. We're both so anxious to get back East. Somehow, hearing about your little sister's first choir solo over the phone isn't as much fun as sitting through an ear-splitting, horrendous concert and then giving her a hug afterwards because she was the bright spot of the evening. Plus, I can actually get back into my own practicing schedule again- leaving my keyboard behind during this move was a BIG MISTAKE. *sigh*
Mmm... My Anonymous IV chant is done downloading, so I'm going to soak my brain in medieval goodness. Ciao.