Last night, I expected to get home, do a quick 20-minute work-out (30 Day Shred, motherfuckers, don't think it was that easy), make a light dinner, wash the dishes, and read a big chunk of The Girl Who Played With Fire. I estimated my reading start time at 7:30-8pm at the latest.
Amazingly, when I got to my place, there was a close parking space available. I got inside, fed the cats, put in some laundry, changed, did the work-out, showered, put the clothes in the dryer, made some spinach-and-eggs, turned on the computer, washed the dishes, watched the latest episode of Castle, folded the clothes, fixed my iTunes (which had been unavailable for a week or so but as I suspected downloading the most current version fixed it), played with the cats, bought some music, brushed my teeth, got into bed grabbed my book, and the clock claimed it was
9:42pm
Huh?
I don't know how that happened...
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