Gardening
I had grand plans for my Saturday night involving an art gallery somewhere and an appearance at Paul’s roommate John’s birthday party with an armload of beer. All of those plans were dashed to pieces when my favorite surly lady said that if I were to be in the north suburbs I should come see her new bed. At first I was resistant, but she said “we could go to Coon Rapids Grumpy’s! There will be billa billa!” For a brief, terrifying hopeful moment I thought that maybe she had actually read some of my blog. No.