Less than a month until the wedding, and KrisDi skips town on me! Citing such obviously-made-up excuses as “Final dress fitting” and “Meeting with the Cake Guy” and “Meeting with the Band” and “Meeting with the Videographer,” KrisDi abandons me here, all by my helpless lonesome, to subsist on rotting salads and even-more-rotting eggs on top of said rotting salads (forget about it, I’d rather not explain).
Yeah. So, I’m drinking beer to console myself (that’s a shocker). Oh, and listening to loud music. I ought to have done some yard work (most especially a long-planned attempt at keeping our yard from eroding away), but instead I did a Sierra Nevada Bigfoot Barleywine vertical tasting and decided to perpetuate my buzz with a Pale Ale or two.
Tomorrow I intend to get up early (guffaw) and do some work (not for work, for home [further guffawing]), and then around early afternoon meet up with Mr. and Mrs. Pope to go buy cheap-ass books. Maybe they’ll feed me, now that I’m an orphaned, caretakerless urchin.