It's only Tuesday and I'm already counting the hours and minutes until Friday afternoon. That's what I get for having a job in Human Services and having to deal with other peoples' problems.
I invited Greg to go on a date Friday night, dinner and movie. I want to see "Glory Road". (That's the basketball movie with the hot guy from "Sweet Home Alabama".) I'll let Greg choose where we eat, though the conversation will go just like this:
G "Where are we eating?"
T "I don't care. You choose. I picked the movie."
G " I don't care. You say."
T "No, I chose the movie. You're pickier than I am. You decide."
Can you tell this conversation has happened a few times in the past 25 years? :o) Now, I could suggest a place the first time he asks, but he'll say, "Nah, I don't really want to go there." But he won't suggest an alternate establishment. Sigh.
Today's photo has nothing to do with this post. I just thought it was amusing, especially since my friend had her gnome kidnapped from her front yard last Spring. The only contact she's had with the 'nappers was a single letter saying her gnome was fine and she'd be hearing from him. No other communication has been received. Wonder if he's in this pic?
5 years ago