Today's activities at work could be descibed as nothing short of exhausting. I am very glad to now be back here, relaxing in front of Argo. (Though the stress level is still nothing compared to being in the presence of over a dozen individuals between ages 2.5 to 5 for 8 straight hours.)

Weekend plans include an excursion into the time-honored art of festing. But first, some serious recharge is required. I hereby declare tonight and tomorrow as total do-nothing time. (That's not to say this isn't typical for me during this part of the week.) But this time, I'm making it an official proclamation.

No obligations, no requirements placed on myself. Let the apartment go to hell. It's a mess, but I don't care. The bills can be paid later. Ditto for taxes. I will sit and laze in my own stench, and I will enjoy it. Although, if I feel so inclined, I might get up, go out and do something fun, but only if it's fun. I might watch a movie. I might watch crap on tv. I might not. Nothing required. Nothing.

Checking my mail box today (the physical kind), I found something slightly out of the ordinary. A postcard with handwriting on the back. Source: San Antonio. Message scribbled on the back: "Salsa. Coming Soon. Tons of Salsa."

lol. That's absolutely great! Cause that's where folks know how picante sauce should taste.

In accordance with the official plan of inaction for the next 24 hours, I am going to end this rambling, because I don't feel like typing anything else. Hah! So there.