...Since this is the first day post the long Labor Day Weekend, I don't have much to say other than I had a pretty good weekend doing something that resembled close to nothing.
I stitched on a model dragon.
I didn't take a nap.
We went to Costco.
I saw Chicago in concert for the umpteenth time and took the A & B - not gonna make that mistake again. At least not for another 5 years or so. A & B tussled a bit, and B was in tears at the end saying that she had a horrible time. Yesterday she was saying that she had a great time. *shrug*
I read a book.
I dangled my feet in the pool only because I wasn't up to actually getting into the pool. Otherwise this would have said "I played in the pool with my kids" instead of "I sat on the edge of the pool with my feet in and played with my kids"
I played the Sims with B (helped her with her game).
I played the Sims by myself with B watching (played my game at her insistence).
I heard that Radio Shack fired employees via email. If only I could be so lucky.
I found out that I'm hunting for a job when unemployment is supposedly at it's worst point since June 2000. How much you wanna bet on that? What about all the people who *aren't* on unemployment benefits that are still unemployed? I *know* it's worse than they say.
I got some good sleep. Even while watching 'The Lost Boys' (I missed the last half hour of the movie easy).
I had a rather unsettling dream last night. I was sitting around the house when somehow, for some reason, Bill Champlin (one of the lead singers of Chicago - he's best known as the vocalist for 'Look Away') was in my living room and we were just chatting about this and that. We talked about normal things, like ants in the kitchen and politics. We talked about our spouses, and he showed me his custom made wedding ring, which had gold and wood on it. Eventually he left the house with a sweet goodbye. Then it was the next morning and I picked up the newspaper and saw his picture on the front page stating that he'd died in some weird accident. I woke up a little freaked out because he's my favorite vocalist, he was on fire on Friday night, and the dream was more than a little surreal (not because of the normal things we were talking about, but because he was actually in my house). That'll teach me to have a quarter of DH's peanut butter and blackberry jelly sandwich an hour before bed.
That's all that's going on from here. I might talk more about the concert tomorrow, or I'll be on a different tear...
...right now I just need to get the day started.