The End Of The Tunnel

Moving madness spilled over into yesterday, alas. I left work early figuring that I would meet Mrs. Hard Starboard over at the place into which we moved my mother-in-law over the weekend to finish unloading her furniture and belongings. Well, not "figuring," really, or "expecting," either, since I "figured" that she would dilly-dally away the few hours of daylight we had left. Sure enough, not only was she not over there finishing the moving job, but she hadn't even gotten home yet. Then, to top that off, she insisted upon fixing and eating supper before departing. By the time the show got on the road, as it were, it was dusk.

This was also around the time that my daughter needed to be picked up from band practice, so I bailed out to go retrieve her. Thence came the newest wrinkle in the fondness of my existence: my car wouldn't start. The battery was dead. As in "like a smelt, or Judas Iscariot, whichever came first" dead. "Republican chances in 2008" dead. "Absolute zero" dead. So I had to do the whole AAA/tow truck routine, and my car is in the shop this morning, from which I will hopefully be able to pick it up sometime today - not because it won't be ready, but due to the availability of Mrs. HS to give me a lift back over there. To hear her tell it this morning, I may have to wait until tomorrow to get back a car that, according to the mechanic, it took all of fifteen minutes to repair (i.e. replacing the battery).

Needless to say, serious blogging is still on the back-burner. I'll try to get back up and running just as lickety-damn-split as I can.