You know it's not the worst of days when you drop your sandwich and it lands butter up.
That just happened.
Yesterday was a pretty shitty day, all in all.
Today feels better.
We're not planning on having tacos tonight, but man... everyone else is. I know I said it before, but Swedes are seriously obsessed with Friday night tacos.
No Taco Tuesday here.
Tuesday is not Friday.
It struck me again this morning when the host of the kid's morning show Lou always watches while we get ready, announced that it was "tacos for dinner because it's Friday!"
So at the 9:30 coffee break I casually asked my co-workers, who's all having tacos tonight?
2 out of 5.
After that unofficial poll I went and picked up the key to the apartment where Dylan's parents will be staying when they get here next week. The owner reminded me of a retired ballerina and the apartment smelled like cigarettes and expensive soap. She was very sweet. I think it will work out just fine.
Over and out. Happy weekend.
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