Worked, and then quit early. I'm going to work this weekend, so there. Working this weekend means getting up at ... midnight? 2 am? haven't quite decided yet. One colleague says he gets up at 3:30 am eastern, but the latest messaging says testing is to begin at 5 eastern. Of course, 90% of that testing can't occur unless our stuff is working.
Christine is flying east to spend a week with her mother and give her sister a week off from late stage Alzheimer caregiving. Her mother is currently in rehab, after falling and breaking a hip in the Alzheimer care home. Her flight is at 6:50 am tomorrow, so we're pretending we're on eastern time right now.
Saturday: Christine is at the airport, i am home. She's given me an album of Bach Sonatas on mandolin. I listened to vintage Devo all the way home and reflected that she has always been drawn to classical music, and the rock of our shared youth was probably her rebellion. And now she's no longer rebelling against the music of her heart, but me? I need the borrowed pumped up energy.
Now i am listening to the sonatas, snuggling with Mr M, and watching FlightAware.