I got some stuff mailed, and distributed hot chocolate and good cheer to the postal workers, then got quarters for laundry (the machine at work is only giving out dollars now) and wandered in the general direction of Mesa.
Going to Mesa at rush hour is not something I really recommend. I've done it a few times now, and omg not the best idea. Traffic was so gnarly at the point where the 51 hits the 10 that I was able to safely extract my camera phone and get a nice photo of the traffic gnarliness and send it. (I couldn't type on it, though: it wasn't that gnarly.)
Unless Darkside's schedule has been changed, I know approximately when he usually gets home. I got there a bit before that, and got myself some apples while waiting. Unfortunately, Darkside's communication with me regarding matters like his schedule is kind of ranging from poor to totally not at all. When I showed up, his car was out there in the rain, the truck was gone, and his dad said this was the night when he was way over on the other side of town. (I'm thinking this is his gaming night or something, as Malfoy Senior was plenty with the certainty that I Should Have Known About This. Why yes, dear fellow, I'm sure I *should* have known about this, but since your son does not seem to find it necessary to make sure that his good friend has his actual *schedule*, which would involve *communication*, I don't.) I delivered packages and hot chocolate into the hands of Malfoy Senior, then fled, running back to my car with my face entirely pink.
On the way home, I attempted to write a country song. I stopped in at a store and got a thing. This resulted in some awkwardness later. Dear self, please clean up all wrappers etc. from any shared rooms once you are done, rather than thinking "I'll clean up sometime before the roommate wakes up." Because this will be the night that the roommate wakes up in the middle of the night.
The
I only woke up to the sound of the key in the lock.
I'm going back to bed pretty soon.