Tuesday night (4th of July) we were up past eleven, watching fireworks from a footbridge over the Willamette River a couple of blocks from our house. Sounds great, right? Like one of those experiences we’re all supposed to savor. Eh. The fireworks were totally not worth it – uninspired, no music, blocked by trees, washed out by the lights on the bridge and in the park. Sorry, Eugene, but your fireworks game is weak.
Tonight, two days later, I’m ready to climb into bed at 10 after 8. The sun hasn’t set yet, and it’s a beautiful night, but I’m so. crazy. tired. I bet Margaret and Erik will be able to hear me snoring all the way in California.
Life with me is a real roller coaster ride, people. Better hang on.