Jeff: "I'm trying to get my heart rate up."

Me: at friggin' midnight?
Jeff: well since I'm not doing anything anyway...
Me: you should have done this a couple of hours ago. You want your grandmother to come out and bitch at you?
Jeff: Um, no.

It's a little after midnight and Jeff is downstairs running around like a man possessed. My mom isn't feeling well and has been kinda crabby, and she told Jeff before she went to bed that she didn't want to have to tell him to calm down, be quiet, etc.

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Looks like Daniel's getting his car fixed for the umpteenth time, so I won't have to pick him up from work for much longer (I hope!). The passenger's side door still doesn't open from the outside from where the deer hit it a couple of months ago. It's the running parts that have disabled Daniel's car again. Something about a starter, an alternator, spark plugs, a battery... The car's like 15 years old (Dean drove it for years until he bought his Yukon 2 years ago), how much more repair can this thing take?

Now, if could just get my Beretta up and running...I'd be so out of here!

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That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--