Fridays

There's something psychological about Fridays. It's the hardest day of the week partly because I've been on the go for the previous four days. I'm a grannynanny to a toddler with an amazing reservoir of energy and a wicked sense of humor. Fridays with her are usually my longest day of babysitting. The drive home from Englewood is a crowded mess of  traffic and crazy people with a death wish. Then there's the annoying train that blocks Main Street about half the time when I'm so close to home. It's probably a karma issue about learning patience. Good luck with that, karma.

My cat, Emily the Strange, (appropriately named after a comic book character) had an adverse reaction to her rabies vaccination and couldn't use her hind legs on Wednesday morning. I now have the pleasure of giving her an antibiotic every day because of her recent dental work, and pills for the vaccine problem. She's recovering nicely so you don't need to send a card or flowers.

The psychological thing about Friday means that I'm really happy it's about to be Saturday and Sunday.
I can think of only a few things that can dim the brightness of any weekend. Things like having to fly somewhere with the TSA people doing their dirty work first, or having surgery would be a downer that even a Saturday couldn't fix.

 I've been saving my Chabon book for tonight. I hope I can keep my eyes open long enough to read for an hour. But first I have letters to write and a dinner to cook.