I have a post half-composed in my head, but I can't share it with you because our laptop went kaput. Actually, the charger went kaput, but the point is: I can't blog right now. Well, obviously I can, but even this brief paragraph that I've hunt-and-pecked out on this tablet-thingy has driven me 90% of the way down the road to homicide. Every wrong letter and auto-corrected word makes me want to run a bathtub full of water and throw this thing in it, then add a plugged-in toaster for good measure.
(Never mind the fact that there aren't any electrical outlets anywhere near our tub. Or the fact that this tablet probably shouldn't be mixed with water in the first place. Don't try to inject any rationalism into this conversation, dear friends.<-------That previous statement could seriously be a theme in our marriage. Or at least, a theme song. I could sing it to Derek daily. He would love it.)
Someday I'll blog again. (Ooo, that one could be sung to the melody of "Someday My Prince Will Come," except I'm closer to a tenor than the soprano that song calls for, so I'd end up all screechy and terrifying, just like my sisters and I do when we join forces and serenade our mom with Minnie Ripperton's "Loving You." Now THAT is something special to behold. Behear. Whatever.)