It has been 37 days, 7 hours 22 minutes and I:
wrote a poem,
received Scott's T-shirts for work,
got news that The Lunar Companion will be arriving soon,
got my kitchen sink fixed (it's been basically non-functional, due to some major plumbing damage, for too long to even say,)
found out Erin got her socks (a requested b-day gift)
got final notification that the boys have been approved to receive benefits through Social Security (because their worthless father is on disability)
finished 3 loads of laundry
cooked dinner (yup, dishes need to be done agin)
cleaned the livingroom
written the biggest part of a (way-late) newsletter
helped Scott build new doors for the storage building turned mower-garage,
and received yet another email that spoke of how Nova's blog touched someone in some way.
Now I'm sitting here, listening to the too-damn-loud-stereo in Tommy's bedroom, waiting for the dryer to buzz so I can fold load 4 and dry load 5, thinking to myself:
"Self, your dumb ass left the washer open so that last load never fucking washed!"