Some days you just can�t face getting up in the middle of the night. Lucky for you, on those days the gods send you a one-hour delay. Isn�t life awesome? And only seconds before the phone rang tolling the one-hour delay, I said, I�m going to call in late. How very serendipitous. How very excellent and super.

The other great part about the delay is that there didn�t seem to be any reason for it. I didn�t encounter any ice upon the roads.

The horrible part: we are a mere two days from the dread holiday luncheon. Waaaaa. Waaaaaaaaaaa. Somebody saaaaave meeee. Run me over with your bicycle or something, pleeaaasee? I�ll give you hugs.

Moving on.

Now we own a DVD player and now we own season 5 BtVS. It�s pretty exciting. Except for the stupidly spending money I ain�t got part. I mean, I�m a fucking idiot about this stuff sometimes. No impulse control. None. Plus I get so damned stressed out about money. Jeff said his mom was the one who always worried about money when he was a kid and his dad was pretty relaxed about it. Jeff�s like his dad. In my family, my mom was/is/forever shall be positively zen about money. She never worries about it, she spends willy-nilly and it always comes out right in the end. My pops? All he does is agonize over money. I swear this worry takes up approximately � of his brain function. And me? Every day I turn a little bit more into my dad.

I even started yelling at people (just in my head, don�t worry) on the highway coming home. Shit, man.

I got the worse of both worlds. I got my mom�s tendency to spend spend spend and my pop�s inclination to worry. In a perfect universe I would get my pop�s thriftiness and my mom�s peace-loving brain. Shucks.

And the other worse part: turns out, I�m not really in the mood for Buffy. That�s right. You heard me. All I want to watch is THE SOPRANOS. Best show I ever saw, hand to god. I�m totally hating myself for betraying my undying Buffy loyalty, but as much as it pains me, I got to give it to The Sopranos. I am completely obsessed. That show is so fucking good. Also, I keep saying cocksucker in my head.

Jeff said Anya would be his girlfriend from Buffy (I picked Giles as my boyfriend) and then he asked who would be my boyfriend from the Sopranos and I said: �duh, you would.� That�s part of what I love about the show�nobody is idealized, nobody is actually sexy or appealing. I would not want anybody on that show to be my boyfriend or my girlfriend (though if I had to pick, I�d pick Paulie, I guess. But ick.)

I was a hat-making fool this weekend. Jeff was a skid-steer riding fool. He cleared all this privet and he made all these fancy drainage ditches. He spent six hours straight on that thing on Saturday. Sunday? He threw his back out. I think it was from the six hours straight (not even a break to pee or drink water or move his arms in different directions�I don�t think he even knew any time at all had passed. Jeff was having some serious fun on Saturday, y�all). So Sunday was basically pure torture for the poor fellow�first there was the agony�he couldn�t move for a long time (not until all the different kinds of drugs kicked in) and then he couldn�t do anything except sit around watching the Sopranos or reading his book. He practically had a temper tantrum last night he was so bored. Seriously cute.

Ok. So now I�m going to be very fast. I will put all the spine labels on all the books and I will be done faster than anybody in the history of spine labels. Bye.