The kind that has breakfast regulars and doesn't hand out menus because everyone gets "the usual." Oh, and I still dream about how good the coffee was.

My neighborhood has one of those! My usual is the steak and eggs: steak medium, eggs scrambled, hashed browns, whole-wheat toast and orange juice. Yes, the waitress remembers all that.

The only difference is that at my place, the coffee sucks.

I am a wierd regular. I never always want the same thing. Except coffee.

Okay, now I want diner breakfast where people know my 'regular.'

All possible health vibes to d's dad.

Car~ma of the best kind to Daniel and Andi.

My inner three-year-old plots the overthrow of governments, pillages candy counters and is rude to ancient drivers (vocally, within the confines of my own car) all the time.

You guys at The Treehouse again?

We are now.

Just after my little online adult tantrum things started looking up. Aimee's mom offered to take us to breakfast, then drop us off.

Em and I are now well-fed, and Em is playing like a madgirl. I am, natch, telling y'all all about it.

I pitched a true three-year-old fit on my way home last night. Working 11 hours and not meeting the goal I had set for myself, I was in a bad mood to begin with. In the last hour my mom called to tell me we were having company for dinner and K-Bug texted me to ask "How it was going". Then, just as I left the building, DH called - no clue what the true purpose was, but I pitched a fit at him over "All these people bugging me and I'll be home when I get home, and work was killing me, and leave me alone, GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT".

Then I turned on some heavy metal in the car and screamed my way home. I did apologize when I finally walked in the door.

I never always want the same thing.

Me neither.

I need to get dressed and go see a property inspection. Our offer was accepted. Meep.

On-topicness: there's a diner and a cafe within a mile of this house. I think itr's walking distance, but I haven't tried walking it yet. And pre-breakfast walking distance may be a different thing than normal walking distance. It might be shorter, because of the not awake yet, or it might be longer because of the needing breakfast and coffee keeping me walking.

As Bev goes, so goes my nation. We made a great crime-fighting say-rude-things-about-old-folks-driving team on the roadtrip to Atlanta.

Our offer was accepted.

Congratulations! Where is it?

~ma to those that need it, happy-thoughts to those that want 'em. I will never catch up after being away from the board. New Orleans was swiss cheese -- some parts look good and seem fine, other parts seem to have nothing going on. My kosherish DH had a tough time eating because of the shellfish-pig centered menus, but that was all fine with me. I chatted with the fellow who has the GPO symbol tattooed on his arm at a party and drank late into the night with my previous employer.

Suisun City, by Fairfield. We should have had my MiL drop a kosher care package of for your DH.

He could call it "Transport" and they'd think it was just a name referencing commuters and truckers, but they'd all be test subjects.

I will happily provide (a very tiny amount of) venture capital towards this. Who's in?