Brush the Dog, Saddle the Pony

My boss came to me late last week and told me that I'd be demonstrating some software to the customer bigwig tomorrow (the 19th). So tonight I'm going over everything one last time. We dry run for our folks in the morning to make sure we don't step on anything that might bring tears to our eyes.

Meanwhile, it's two day to family (folks start trickling in on Thursday) and, coincidentally, a scheduling snafu has moved my mother-in-law's surgery to Thursday. All that is to say that it is a better time to be me than it is to be my wife. She's finding things a little stressful. Pookums is taking it all in stride and is closely monitoring the television so the rest of us are not distracted. I picked up the dance tights for her peformance tonight.

I'm just a little pudgy to be taken seriously in a dancewear store. The staff there cocked one well-plucked eyebrow each when they saw me walk through the door. That did not stop them from running my credit card through their little machine, but I'm sure they are trying very diligently to erase the mental image of me in flesh-colored transitional tights from their collective imagination.

The ripping good time continues. The pace is, well, let's just say that glaciers and such could probably lap me. I'm now into the Ks. Sixty-one discs left in this binder and then it's one more binder of ~125 and whatever discs are just laying around the house (including the Emerson, Lake & Palmer box set and a couple of others. Mom and Dad Puzzini have a couple of operas and discs by the Ink Spots and the Mills Brothers I want to get as well. And so it goes ...