Dang me.
My Pistons are on FIRE!
I'll be very interested to see what the heck happens when the boys head south to Chicago and Ben Wallace doesn't get booed every time he touches the ball. Methinks the Pistons will be
ju-ust fine.
Let's see...yesterday I went to Spring Lake for therapy where I heard the dreaded words "I don't know how much longer we'll need to do this, Erin." Yeah, yeah, I know. Ultimately this is a good thing. But I'm a true junkie who is filled with sorrow at the thought of not paying someone to listen to me talk about myself for an hour a week. Chris has moved to a new office (which is right next door to the brand spanking new Spring Lake Library--gorgeous! And suspiciously quiet!) which will eventually be filled with a nutritionist, a massage therapist, and a yoga instructor. I love it.
Post-therapy I battled a big bubblebee, watched some Gilmore Girls, and then headed down to the Bar of Sand to watch the game. Woo-hoo.
This week is crazy insane busy. Tonight the most wonderful boy in the world is forgoing Tulip Time and $5 growler night at NHB to go with me to the mall for an eye appointment. Tomorrow I'm working from 8-5pm (and doing some other people's jobs in a quarter of the time) in order to attend the Daniel Johnston concert which I keep forgetting is actually happening tomorrow. Thursday night is the next game in the series and blast Chicago for being an hour behind as the stupid thing doesn't start until 9pm. The weekend is wide open right now but I have some MAJOR cleaning to do as
drumroll please
It's that time of year yet again.
The Davisons are coming! The Davisons are coming!
Can't wait.
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