So, I have this programming assignment for a class, which is due on Wednesday. It’s a fairly sizable piece of work, and while I’ve been making steady progress for the three weeks I’ve had it, I’ve been counting on having a full day during this three-day weekend to finish it off.
Well, Saturday was frittered away horking around on my computer, updating a few dozen pieces of software, and reading some really good science fiction online.
After blowing Saturday, I really needed to be productive Sunday. I started out well enough, but then one orange juice and champaign became two while helping Rochelle get started with her baking. And then Hilda came down, and two became four. Or five. I returned to bed at about noon to take a nap and sleep off the booze.
My immediate instinct after waking up at 4pm (we were heading out to a dinner Rochelle was hosting at 5:00pm) was to look for a(n emotional) stick to beat Rochelle with, because it just had to be her fault (not mine). After several false starts, I finally found something that worked in the expensive smoked salmon that’s currently rotting in the refrigerator.
But then I realized, hey wait, I don’t need to pin this on Rochelle, because it was actually Hilda’s fault.