Sunday was...well, you know how they say there are the "stages of grief" and sometimes it takes a while to get through them all? Well, with a little push from the latest terror alert, I hit anger with a vengence yesterday.
Let's just say that we now know that if you throw a bottle of Sam Adams hard enough, glass shards will stick in the door frame. I'm just relieved I chose the bottle over the baseball bat--washing everything that was splattered is one thing, replacing smashed stuff is another.
Then we went to dinner--it was very nice to get out, plus I owed Greg a beer--and watched The Mask of Zorro, ever a fine flick.
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