Manic Monday

So I woke up yesterday, got out of bed, and immediately felt like this:


Except I realized I wasn't on the boat any longer, but on solid, dry land. Blech. So, I tried to cure my wooziness with a giant mug of:


Yeah, didn't work. The toast did. So did a shower. Mom got here at 11:30 so I could drive all the way to Gainesville:


However, on the way there I lamented free speech. Well, maybe not free speech. But certainly free grammar:

(My kingdom for a can of spray paint and a large grammar book so I can hit this guy on the noggin.)

Nearly ate a Honda Civic for lunch because the little f-er decided to rubberneck an accident on the opposite side of the road. But, I'm not bitter:

(Yeah, I'm talking about you. Ass-hat.)

And witnessed evidence of the Georgia drought:


Although, this scene on Lake Lanier is the same I witnessed ten years ago. So, I just need to remember that all is cyclical. Five years from now, I'll probably be lamenting the excessive flooding. Finally, I was at my destination and placed my hair in the always-capable hands of Wayne:


Got some color:

(I'm too sexy for this towel!)

Ate a chicken salad sandwich courtesy of Wayne:


Read some ridiculously sugary-sweet double-X chromosome fare:

(Damn, somebody smack me with a National Geographic, quick.)

Finally, Wayne began the long process of forming my graying split-ends into something resembling "No, really! I'm not a SAHM! I'm a kicky, trendy, working girl! - Hell, who am I kidding?":

(Do you realize how hard it is to get one's hair cut, carry on a conversation, and take a picture? Don't ask.)

I heard about his kids dropping the F- and B-bombs and listened to the latest gossip involving Tommy Aaron. And finally, the finished result:


Go ahead. Whistle. I'll wait while you get it out of your systems. Back 59 miles to the CofaCMG homestead and to these little ones:


And a quiet evening of both of these:




Ah, it's great to be home!