Yep. I'm sure as hell sitting on the couch and drinking a beer this time around. I feel like I worked harder than I do during most days on the road though. I spent the first few hours of the day getting home and then the rest of the day running around willy nilly and trying to get things done. I'm more or less set to go for Traverse City at this point. Good enough.
The Wings were kind enough to let Pittsburgh win a game so that they can wrap it up on Saturday. You folks may or may not know this, but we are soon to begin a bit of a tradition in my family. On June 7, 1997 (look it up) a certain dashing young lad took his marital vows. Yeah, so my wife turned out to be a psycho hose beast and I probably wasn't much of a husband. Don't lose sight of the narrative here. The Wings swept the Flyers and won the Stanley Cup that night. This Saturday, twelve years later, the lads will have a shot to win another Cup against another team of heathens from Pensylvania. And... the second of my parents' male offspring will sign his own personal deal with the devil. I kid because I care... or something. (The miserable marriage and angry divorce are officially not required in order to establish this tradition.)
I somehow seem to be slated for four hours of driving tomorrow. Taking a break to get off the road is a theory that I really should explore.
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