Oh, yeah. Jeff's mom called Friday to tell us that Bob (Jeff's adoptive Dad) was having surgery to fix his hip. He broke it when he fell. And Jeff's Grandma has fallen and broken something twice in a little over a year. Geez. What are they doing in Cowpens, elderly break dancing? (Now I get the image of the granny in The Wedding Singer doing Rapper's Delight. "Now what you hear is not a test...")

Not much going on. Yesterday I got this nasty house somewhat cleaner, did shitloads of laundry, almost finished the last bit of painting (except for touchups) for the spare bedroom, bathed the stinky puppy, helped Jeff replace the outlets (but need bigger wall plates, fucking hell), finally watched Signs (I got it from Netflix almost a month ago), and managed not to kill anyone. I did not go shopping. I may wait until next weekend after I get paid. Or not. I need some retail therapy. My horoscope did mention stress management. That's laughable.

OK, I think I'll go try out Nero and burn a new CD.