Good morning, y’all. We woke up to the first real snow this morning. It’s only a dusting at the moment, little flakes blowing sideways in the wind. I don’t believe the forecast is for much more than this. From what Shawshank showed me on his phone, the flakes we’re seeing now should stop within the next couple of hours. Unfortunately, the wind will stick around.
In other bad news, we had to cancel this morning’s drive into the city. The oil light came on in the Hot Mess Express last night after Shawshank went out last night. I asked him to please check the level before we did anything this morning, and quelle surprise, we’re dry. Normally, we’d just pick up a few quarts at the closest gas station and go. However, we’d have to wait until they opened, since it’s Sunday and nothing opens early. Waiting would leave us two hours behind schedule. His parents’ cars aren’t available today, otherwise we’d borrow one of theirs.
Instead, we’ll drive out to Slightly BiggerTown for some basic groceries tomorrow. We’ll go to the city next week, when Shawshank has an extra long weekend. This will give him a little extra “recovery” time. Between the drive and the shopping circuit, it takes a lot out of a person.
I spent yesterday in Shawshank‘s shop. I arrived shortly after opening. His boss called and told him what needed to be done before she came in. He stuck me in the back to organize the clearance area. We were actually somewhat busy during the few hours he was open. I sold shit. Shawshank tallied up the hours I was in there helping this week and put a “time card” on BossLady’s desk before we left for the weekend. I’m sort of glad I won’t be there the next time she’s in at the same time he is.
On a whim, we picked up some breaded veal patties on our last shopping trip. We had them for dinner. Completely average, they tasted like they came from the type of small, local Italian restaurant that bills itself as more authentic than Olive Garden, but really only has better quality oil in their fryers (and they never change it, so it’s seasoned). We baked them up then broiled them with a little sauce and mozzarella, and had them with pasta. Dinner tasted like my childhood, when my parents had just split up and my dad wouldn’t cook and we only ate at a place called Capelli’s on the nights we spent at his house. So good.
For the moment, we’re kicking it, watching movie trailers on YouTube. Shawshank put the laundry in, and my rammy-jammies are clean. We’re going to have lunch and find some way to lock our asses to the couch.
