Sunday afternoon, killing time

Mood: Good
Hair: Blown out, uncurled, probably pretty snarled

I worked this afternoon. It was less awful than I anticipated. I hate working on Sundays, mostly because of my first job, where Sundays were truly fantabulously awful. Imagine Sartre's hell.

Anyway, now I'm waiting to pick Sparky up from youth group, from whence we will head to the pizza place for our dinner and then home to see the v.sick Beast. I haven't heard from him all afternoon--we left for church at 10:00--and I'm rather concerned, but I don't want to wake him. As if he's actually sleeping... We can only hope.

So I'm surfing. And trying to convince myself that I really am NOT getting sick. Really. I'm not. Getting sick.

I found an exhibit that will either appall you or make you laugh (I'm the latter).

I also found a site of letters of application that are amusing--I'm linking the Santa letter.

Sparky was here at work with me this afternoon, for about half the time. He spent a few minutes trying to update his blog but apparently he did something terribly illegal and he got frustrated and decided to read a book instead. He has discovered that book and two other unused Christmas presents from last year in the past 3 or 4 days. Then he asked me for the Toys R Us catalog! As if.

I must finish Christmas shopping this week and get things wrapped next weekend so they can be mailed before it gets nuts at the post office. Oh, wait, it probably already is... Oh well, I think I'm nearly done. One more quick errand here and then I'm out of here.