Spent last night at Mr B’s watching the Wings and Pistons games with the Wrecking Crew. (Haven’t been called that in years, but it’s much easier than writing everyone’s names out – and B…I know you’re gonna make fun of me for that!) Our server appeared to be in training and had a hard time remembering what everyone ordered, which was only beer and dessert. By the end of the night he had disappeared and the woman that had been keeping an eye on him brought our last round. There was lots of gossiping and almost an impromptu trip to Drahner Rd to scare the shit out of ourselves at the monastery. (Legend has it that the monks will chase after anyone that drives up there and throw potatoes at them) Jeff managed to smell everyone and correctly identify their perfume/cologne, except me….Betsey Johnson.

Now I’m at work and Seth has noticed that everyone seems to be in a post-Memorial Day slump. I definitely don’t feel like getting anything done and am still sleepy after staying in bed until 1 for the past three days.