But who's counting...
Les comes home by train tomorrow morning. I'm surprising him by taking the day off. Even though he'll probably need sleep half the day, I just need to be near him. He's still healing from the bronchitis; I expect at least another week of him operating below par. That's ok; I just want him back.
Coffee's not working yet. I've got a lot of tidying to do tonight in preparation for his arrival. Would rather be there than work. How sad is that? I'm still at loose ends, feeling the need to curl up somewhere. It's frustrating.
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