So maybe Friday ISn't my favorite day of the week.
Flowers are springing up all over. Violets and forget-me-nots cover the ground. I mentined that to my husband as we took out the garbage this morning. His reply "Hmph." I guess men aren't into flowers. If I'd pointed out a wild boar in the garden, the enthusiasm would have been higher.
That's not the only difference I've found between men and women. :-)
I got home from work yesterday (it seems odd to say that - I haven't officially worked since the twins were born) and dishes were piled in the sink, and there were dust bunnies the size of tricerotops in the corners. Hubby (a neat freak) was walking around with a martyred expression. He did the dishes this morning, which is an indication of how bad things are. He Never does the dishes. (He irons, which saves him from any criticism.) I had to catch up on my work, so I was up until nearly midnight loading books into a database. Then, this morning, I discovered that nothing I did yesterday was showing up on the site & I have to start all over. I banged my head a few times on the keyboard and then decided to go to the pool.
Swim out the kinks.
Drown my sorrows.