When it rains, it pours. In New York City when it rains, I inevitably get smacked in the face with an umbrella. You see I’m the perfect height (a tad over five feet) to get smacked with the sharp part of the umbrella. It happens every single rainy day without fail. Today was no different. Don’t worry, I wasn’t seriously injured.
Switching gears, tonight this is happening:
Minus the cake and the parents, of course. Plus the drinks. My newly British counterpart returns to America for the weekend. I plan to laugh a lot. I’m in the mood for a good chuckle with good friends.
How is your Thursday going?