|These look cute, but they're killers.|
But hey, at least we'll have hot water this year - there's that.
Yes, one of the zillion and one things coming up is the Boy Scout troop's Mulch Delivery Weekend, which situation is just as bad as last year - Larry in charge of mulch, myself in charge of food, neither of us talking to the other in the interest of preserving our marriage past the next 10 days. It's like one of those survival reality shows, only less fun and more real.
And then there is our HOA annual meeting coming up, which promises to be replete with scintillating experiences, such as explaining to my neighbors why we exceeded the budget line item for legal advice and listening to normally rational people almost come to blows over how exactly to plow the snow in our parking lot. I also, in preparation, got to spend an hour today talking to a landscape guy about mulch and lawn fertilizer; that is, when I wasn't on the phone discussing the details of a contract for neighborhood trash pick-up with a very nice woman who no doubt wondered why I was being allowed to handle such things.
Remember when you wanted to be all grown up? Turns out, it's not all it was cracked up to be. Not even close.
[Duck image: The Telegraph]