Can it get any better?

Mom and niece at the airport. Now they are here. The silverware is in the wrong slot and we managed to lose a plant. I’m doomed.

Two kids at camp — when do they come home? I should find out. A good parent would know.

I’d also love to find out why Marxist t-shirts are running thirty bucks a crack. I sure hope Che’s family is getting a cut. In the meantime, I’ll just keep throwing away money on worthless crap to tell the world that we don’t spend money on worthless crap. Maybe I’ll start hawking “Fuck Big Oil” buttons down at the gas station.

Unemployment looms. The downstairs shitter has shit its last shit. I have twenty-eight bucks for the week.

Yeah, I’m looking forward to school shopping.

Update: The Travers is tomorrow. Things are about to get much better… or much worse.