I have no work stories because I haven’t been to work. All week. However, a sneak peek at my Blackberry tells me that I have over 300 emails waiting when I get back. Shit. Over. 300. Well, I know what I’ll be doing Monday.

You may wonder - since I have a Crackberry - why I don’t just go through and read some of them or delete some of them (like the ones that tell my how many hits a particular database table got [yes, seriously, I get emails with this information - sad, I know]). Well, it’s mostly because I told myself that I would abso-fuckin-lutely NOT check email this week. Other than personal email (where is that Vicky’s Slutwear that I ordered?) and my GMail account (because I love it when I hear from you!)

So, what have I done during this vacation? Not. A. Damn. Thing. except read (2 Dean Koontz books and Thomas Harris’ “Hannibal Rising”) and eat lots of veggies from the garden and sleep until 9 am every day. Oh wait. Saw Momanddad on Monday (they had to see the new baby car) and took Mr. Hot and Shortman to see Bourne Ultimatum yesterday.

One day, I’ll put fingers to keyboard to write about Momanddad, but until then I just have a sample - from Monday.

I called as I was leaving to tell them I was on the way. I get there and walk into the kitchen - no one is around. So, I go yelling through the house….”Hello, I’m here”. Finally, Dad walks in. Singing the song from the Dodge Avenger commercial (which I’ve never seen). Mom comes out of the bathroom. Small talk for 3 minutes and then Dad says “So my truck is ready at the dealership, can you run me over there so I can pick it up?”. Being the good daughter that I am, I reply “Of course”.

Then he says “Can you also run me by the pool store so I can get this sample tested?” and holds up a jar of pool water.

I say “Sure”.

Mom and I had already made plans to run by Target (the evil store of everything), so I figured we’d take Dad, drop him off and then go shop.

… In my dreams ….

The dealership my dad took his truck to was 25 miles from their house. I passed 3 GMC dealerships in the first 5 miles. And another 4 before I got to the one that had his truck. I figured the problem must have been something that only this dealership could handle, right? No. Ohhhhh. No. It was a leaky air-conditioner hose. A freakin’ hose! Twenty-five miles to replace a hose!

An hour later (this is not 25 miles on the Interstate…this is 25 miles in ‘light on every single corner, construction has this down to 1 lane, at 1 pm on a Monday afternoon lunch traffic’ traffic), we leave Dad at the dealership and mosey our way BACK 25 miles (me, with a grin plastered on my face - oh my jaws did hurt) to Target.

—- Where I only managed to get a t-shirt and a new pair of shoes before I had to get back to go out to dinner with my guys. But cute shoes, don’t you think? —-