6710 Grand

Nick works nights.  It’s not something I’m in favor of, but he’s just not a morning person.  Someday I’ll describe the morning routine that gets him out of bed.  For now, let’s just say, it’s not pretty.  Thankfully for him, Southwest has an afternoon shift, which he gratefully signs up for.   I’m a morning person myself.  With my early start, I’m usually dead by 9pm.  If I am awake, it’s more of a zombie-like wandering around with mere slits for eyes, my arms outstretched searching for invisible structures or obstacles.   Despite my inability to stay up late, I spend Saturday nights at the airport with my husband.  That’s right—3:30 to midnight on Saturdays, I have my favorite little spot in the food court at Lindbergh Field (right next to the Starbucks) where I park my carcass.  I call it bum glue.  I apply it liberally to the seat of my pants, plant my fanny firmly in a large booth and stay there for eight hours.  It is the most productive eight hours of my week. I could be home fli

It's Monday. Just another day. I can't say I relate to people who hate Mondays. I don't mind them. I actually feel like a slug on the weekends, not getting up before the sun or working out. I do get a nice fulfilling Saturday evening when I go to the airport with my husband for eight hours and apply some much needed bum glue (that's another entry all together). But my day doesn't start until sometimes 8 or 9 o'clock! That's at least four hours later than a typical weekday. FOUR HOURS!!! I'm so ashamed... Monday is the start of a new week. A reason to get out of bed (that, and the coffee). On Monday, General Hospital returns to my day (I just have to know what's going on in Port Charles!). Monday's are days of accomplishment--they set the tone for the week. If I can pry my lazy butt out of bed on time on Monday, I'm more likely to do it again on Tuesday. Don't get me wrong--I don't wish every day were a Monday. I like we