(no subject)

I'm off for a family weekend in North Bay. My mother called at 6:55 this morning, a full hour and five minutes before my alarm was set to go off, to tell me that my father would really like for me to be home in time for us all to go out for dinner and a movie. An hour later, my father called from work to tell me the exact same thing. I have to arrive no later than 4:30. We're going out to North Bay's only British-style pub, the Bull and Quench, and then to see Million Dollar Baby, which is about the only film out right now with broad enough appeal to at least marginally interest my father, my mother, myself, and my sister all at the same time.

I need to be leaving Ottawa no later than noon, which means that I really should get going, as I have quite a bit left to do in the way of packing and setting up the cats and the like before I can go.

I should put pants on.

(no subject)

Dear self,

What did I say ages ago about putting on pants? You are useless (but cute). Quit playing on the internet and go get ready.

Love,
me.