|Yay it's Friday!|
However, I forced myself to go, and I surely did not regret it. Stephanie II, my sistah-from-anothah’-mothah really outdid herself this year. The food was incredible. She sent out in excess of THIRTY dishes. The wine flowed excessively. We didn’t sell out of all spots like we did the first year (because we raised the price most likely) but the venue was beautiful, and the twenty odd people in total that attended were all wonderful—it was such a great, relaxed, fun time, I totally forgot about my not wanting to go originally. The company was exemplary; I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people. The food was a never-ending succession of deliciousness—an homage to gluttony. Hubby and I spent most of Sunday in a pancreatic-stupor because of it, sleeping most of the day after going to the hospital for an ultrasound early Sunday morning (it was a weird appointment, but I didn’t have to take any time off work to do it, so it worked out okay that way).
I haven’t seen my horse in forever, leaving work mostly late all week. I MISS HIM! I MISS RIDING! He’s going to be a rodeo horse; it’s been so long since I’ve ridden him. Argh! Hopefully things will slow down a bit in the next month. I’m slowly catching up with work and I’m hoping I’ll get my craft-room organized (it’s hoarder-like right now) and start sewing again. But of course, it is February, which means an automatic shift into depresso-mode for a few more weeks. Why?
Because it’s soon to be....