Sniff. Very verklempt making moment. Wicked, in her umpteenth year as a teacher of, well, teacherly things. Sniff. No more meetings in high priced coffee shops to discuss the merits of Daniel Craig's bod versus head.
Mid August means S.B. goes back to work, too, doing whatever it is he does wearing that sexy ass hard hat of his. Sniff. Bye, bye, S.B.!
So where does that leave spouse-less, friendless, hapless lil' ol' Moi? Chained to my desk for the next three weeks writing a book. Just me, my iMac, a case of Fresca, and my head down, type, type, type, type, typing.
I'll check in here and there. In between sentences.