I'm moving a little slow this morning. A friend is moving to South Carolina, and a group of us gathered at the drinking club to see him off. I stayed until after 11:00, which is about two hours after my normal bedtime, then went home and engaged in one of my favorite pastimes: drunken TV surfing (I wasn't terribly inebriated, but I'd had enough to be enchanted by the box). I found an episode of Cheers on TV Land, then woke up to The A Team. Mr. T holding a revolver didn't sit well with the worn off beer, so I turned it off and stayed on the couch, knowing that my wife didn't want to smell my cigarette-tainted self (I don't smoke, but most everyone else at the drinking club does). I went to bed at 5:30, found Meg (5) in my spot, scooted her over, slept fitfully for 45 minutes while Tess (11 months) screamed and Max (2) joined us.
Did I mention that I'm moving a little slow this morning.
