Oh, piffle. I hope I didn't sound like some sort of Hurricane Drama Queen here, battening down and riding out Armageddon, because the latest track is definitely sleep-through-able in my area. Other areas are not so lucky, but I'm not going to play up their drama. At my house it sounds more and more like...okay, a bigass rainy day. It's gonna rain like a mo-fo and be really windy. I may lose more shingles tomorrow since the roof is on borrowed time, and if I'm really cursed, I may lose power. But...piffle. Between now and Get Up Time tomorrow there are quality sleeping hours.

I'll probably be at work on Monday, so it's time to think of normal things, like working out and continuing to upgrade my working wardrobe. I'll retreat to bed early with an armload of catalogs.

I didn't mention last night's "party" - because it wasn't. We are old. We spent a lot of time at the restaurant, eating and talking and drinking and talking, and by 9 p.m. we were worn out. It's so damn sad, give a bunch of over-40 people alcohol and carbohydrates and we fold and want to go home and sleep. Next time the party starts at my house and stays there - I have the ultimate party house now, no kids and a bitchin' kitchen. It took me 25 years to get here, and dammit, it's time to use it.