It's been a pretty exciting evening, truth be told. Some fun news. Good stuff. Which can't, unfortunately, be told. Because it's all very secret, like. I can tease, but I can't tell. It's all hush-hush. You know. On the QT.

Frustrating, n'est pas? Mwoa-ha-ha-ha! That's what you get for reading my journal. Suckers.

The days are rather chilly now, and although I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, the 45-minute walk home from work this evening was quite cold -- at least at first. Of course, a 45-minute brisk walk tends to warm you up quite a bit, but it'll soon be heavy-jacket weather, and six months of darkness and snow and icy winds.

Friends now. Then King of Queens. Then bed. Gimme a break -- these are the only sitcoms I ever watch. I'm allowed. There is a quota, you know.

"I could dance with you 'til the cows come home. On second thought, I'd rather dance with the cows 'til you came home."  ¶ 22:41