Footloose and fancy-free

I'm not dancing like Kevin Bacon, but I am home --- without being sick --- with the entire day stretching before me. I think this is supposed to be the upside to working like a mad woman the first half of the year (that I finally 'claim' some of the extra Saturdays I worked back as bona fide time off work), but it would be nicer if it were part of the normal routine to get Fridays off. I think a four-day workweek would do wonders for worker morale, don't you?

So far today, I've written a long email confessional of sorts to my cousin Sam, recalculated our bills from the recent vacation so that we can all pay each other and have enough money to pay our respective credit cards, and henpecked Terz away from the computer until I'm done with it, buwahahahahaha.

Last night, we had much food and drink at Blooie's, and since Mr B has a phone that with Internet access (I forget the technical term for it), that was of course the perfect setting for an prolonged discussion of Latin language swear words. And while the list has matris futuor, it lacks the equivalent for the more flavorful "brotherjumper".


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