I haven't seen your car in days. I guess that means you've moved. I never got the chance to meet you. I was deeply in love with your car, though. A beautiful '64 Lincoln Continental with suicide doors and a super-shiny black paint job. I had developed a whole relationship scenario for us. You were going to teach me art appreciation. I was going to teach you about wine. In my head, I had a vision of you. It was aided by the fact that I've never seen you. Oh, I've seen your car. Lots of times. But I've never actually laid eyes on you. But it's okay, because I have a very active imagination. So, in my head, we had an entire relationship. And now, you've moved. So it's all over. It would have been better if maybe we'd met. But it's ok.

I've been working a lot. And I have nothing to show for for it. I'm sensing a big career change coming. I'm not sure of anything yet, but I'll keep you posted.

The Flake wrecked his truck yesterday. Usually, I drive out there on Mondays and we drive to his soccer games. Yesterday, he said he wanted to go alone. I agreed. I needed some rest, anyway. So, he said he'd call me after his game. At almost midnight, my phone rang. It was The Flake. He opens with "I should've let you drive". Apparently, he wrecked into a curb and blew out two of his tires. So, his truck is in some parking lot in Carrollton and he was grumpy about me not going to his game. I didn't go because he asked me not to. *sigh* I know that he was grumpy because of his truck, but I got to bear the brunt of it because I happened to be on the phone right then.

I'm going to clear out the Tivo and go to bed. Peace and happiness to you, my babies :)