So, you know that wedding you went to ages ago, and at the reception, there was this godawful band with a lead singer who was bad when he sang, but even worse when he talked, which he never seemed to stop doing? He made unremittingly unfunny jokes and kept trying to get people to do interactive dances, when all everyone wanted to do was grab another cocktail and dance like normal people. You said nothing, not wanting to offend your friends who were getting married, but you suffered silently and perhaps rolled your eyes once or twice to communicate your discomfort to your date.

My neighbors hired That Guy to help along with the festivities at some sort of shindig this evening. I tried hard to tune it out, but I kept catching lines like, "and then, they ran out of rickshaws."

The new washer and dryer are supposed to arrive tomorrow. Never in my life have I looked forward so eagerly to doing laundry. I'm sure the feeling will wear off quite quickly, but for now, I'm going to try to ride that domestic wave.