Tuesday was really Monday

Having just come back from holiday, Tuesday easily felt like a Monday--in every way. I was running late for work. When I got to the company parking garage, I found that my headlights refused to turn off, even with key out of the ignition and the headlights knob turned to off. And my high beam indicator light kept blinking. So, I had to get all my important work done as fast as I could before running out to my car dealership. Luckily, Chevrolet has a shuttle service to take people back to their work/home. Too bad, there was a half hour wait for it. Oh well, I was driven back to work by a nice, elderly man. At the end of the day, I had to take a cab home because my car still wasn't ready, . But I had a really nice cab driver who told me how an Asian guy (actually, he said "oriental") puked on his cab door last Friday and he had to charge him $50. At least the guy was lucid enough to apologize. And luckily, whatever the guy consumed was mostly comprised of water.

Anyway, I had a nice visit back home. My only complaint is that it went by so fast that I didn't get a chance to call up any friends. So much time was set aside as family time, I din't want to try and cram too much in. I don't like doing McDonald's drive-thru visits with several people in a short time just so you can feel less guilty and know that you more or less hung out with everyone. Next time, though, I definitely hope to see some old pals. I spent a good party of my time channeling my inner Martha Stewart--without the domestic Nazism--and make a lunch for all my female relatives. If I do say so myself, it turned out pretty well. As you can see below, I had these plants for centerpieces. I saw in a book called The Secret Life of Food how to make faux flower pots with chocolate cake and cookie crumbs for soil. Oh, and my 7-year-old "niece" (cousin's daughter) subjected me to the joy of High School Musical. It's that Disney Channel TV movie that's all the rage with the pre-teen audiences. Lord help me, but I actually enjoyed it. If a man has an inner child, a woman has an inner teeny bopper. Sidenote: if Lisa is reading this, I think you would definitely like this movie.

Well, I certainly hope my Wednesday turns out a lot better than my Tuesday that was a Monday in disguise.