they say it's your birthday...

now playing: aunt pat, "saddest cowgirl"


today is my mom's sixty-first birthday. happy birthday, mom.


it's also kathy harris' birthday, but i have no idea how old she is...i think she was twenty-six in 1984, but i'm a little fuzzy on that. she was a brief, intense from my iceland days - she'd actually ended up in the psychiatric ward and was discharged from the navy before i left there...that whole situation is a book in and of itself.

it's also paul cotton's birthday today...paul is three years younger than my mom, if i recall...

i'm tired today. grand total of sleep from sunday night to now comes to around thirteen hours. i'm told this is a bad thing. my original plan was to get out of here today at a decent hour and take care of a couple of service calls so that i could be home in time for blake to come over, and to be there to supervise the final assembly of dylan's book report project (which accounts for forty percent of his grade in mrs. mountain's class), but my officemate bailed on me again today, so i have to stay and take care of her work for the second time this week.

there does come a time when the extra money doesn't justify the obstacle that the extra hours present. this would be one of those times.