My certificate came in the mail today. I have until the end of the month to claim my cake. James has voted for a Diplomat and I believe I agree. Gavin will be in town in a week or two, I’m not sure when, closer to the end of the month, and I say we nab it and have a party then. I’m tentatively offering up Feb 27th as the party date.
There are always enough hours in the day. Tomorrow early morning I’m due for sewing with Jenn and in the evening I have dinner with Aubrey Bill. The afternoon is currently empty, but so has today been and I don’t seem to mind too much. It’s been space to not do things in, like whatever it is I’m to be doing with my bank and fetching groceries which are not perogies. If I were really concerned about my lack of life today, the situation could have been easily rectified with a phonecall or two. James and I are content dithering about. I’m mostly wandering on-line looking at nifty things and sharing music, he’s watching movies and sporadically popping up at my door with various odd Eureka moments. To illustrate our sort of drawn out evening, just a minute ago we had this snippet of conversation:
“I want a baby to name badly and raise weirdly.”
“Alright, we’ll get you adoption papers for your birthday.”
“Nu-uh – wouldn’t be my baby, it would be spawn.”
“We’ll put your blood in it.”
“I could put my sperm in it and it still wouldn’t be my baby.”
“..”
“I WIN AT BABY FUCKING!” *sings song about it & goes back to his movie*