This morning I feel like blah. Last night I left early, only to reap the low costs of happy hour. I had one Guinness and one black & tan. My throat feels scratch and my lung congested. Hmm?
I realized I left my credit card, so I gotta go back today to pick that up. Nuissance. Maybe Rachel can make up for it with her phone number, but that's doubtful.
Finished up the chapters of photoshop book I needed to tweak with confidence my 28 year recyclable calendar. I have to clear off my drafting table from the junk that accumulated from converting the Kodak Instamatic into a refurbished 35mm camera extraordinaire.
I misplaced cleaning products for my bike. The parking lot at Tavern had an identical Sportster, except all black. I felt bad that my bike was so dirty. I guess I give new meaning to the term hog rider.