Follow The Sign

Yeah, I totally wanted to kill yesterday. Morgan decided we should go to Brandywine Falls. Cool, fine, peachy. I've never been there, and it sounded like fun, so I'm all for it. After we looked at the falls, he decided we should go on one of the hiking trails for a bit. Again, that's fine. FOUR HOURS LATER we finally find my car. Never, ever trust the signs in the Metroparks unless you want to wind up fucking lost and wandering for 3.5 hours. Then, by all means, follow the signs. If I hear him utter "There's a sign" ever again, he's dead. I don't care how fucking cute he is, he's dead. As an amusing aside, we were lapped by a jogger who would have been clotheslined had he happened by us again. Mind you this all happened from 5:30AM-9:30AM after I'd been up all night. I went to sleep around noon yesterday, after the lost-in-the-Metroparks adventure, got up around 6:30PM last night, talked to Jenny, went back to bed around 8PM and just woke up about a half hour ago. Some of us have to work today, and I have no idea what the rest of us are going to do while I'm at work. Guess that would have been a good thing to have figured out prior to, well, now.

"Kirk here." "She's unavailable, Captain." "Kirk out." This is what happens when you call me 20-30 times within 7 hours, Morgan is answering my phone and we're watching Star Trek while you're calling. Please, don't be stupid.

Must get ready for work.

That is all.