Imma Ferris Bueller this sumbitch
One month into life after newspapering and I'm getting a bit spoiled by having nights, weekends and holidays at my disposal. Actually, I'm maybe enjoying all this time on my hands a little too much. I've worked in the yard. I've made muffins from scratch. I've mopped and scrubbed and wiped. I've gone from a workout on the ellipticallating torture device to a glass of wine faster than you can say "counterproductive." I've attended a community fundraiser, but not so much as a civic-minded citizen but more so I could get some damn crawfish. I'm learning (remedial) video editing. I'm writing words on this blog. And yesterday, when Jim surprised me by having the bikes out and ready for a ride - well, after I acted like a twat because I wanted to sit in a dark movie theater and shove popcorn in my whine hole (wine hole?) - I ended up getting to enjoy that little window of time when Memphis smells like honeysuckle and not hot hobo feet. And I am so glad I did.