Killing Time

So I'm all riled up on chocolate and anticipation of Joel getting back from NH, where he has been shooting and vacationing by himself (sort of) since last Saturday at my sister's in-laws. Joel always goes away on his winter breaks, but since we're trying to save money for the honeymoon, he opted not to fly anywhere this year. He drove up there on Saturday to stay in my sister's in-laws' guest cottage (which I've mentioned before is sort of my current life status dream house) and take pictures of rocky, wintry beaches and foggy lighthouses. My sister's in-laws intimidate the crap out of me, but Joel held his own. Amanda and Tom were there, too, for the first few days. I actually find it kind of awesome that Joel feels comfortable enough with my family to spend a weekend away with my sister and her husband without me. But when they told me all about going sledding, there was a part of me that was like, hey! I want to be having The Fun, too!

Because I? Was not really Having the Fun. I stayed home to, you know, go to work every day and tackle fun tasks like cleaning the apartment (and it stayed clean! for more than five minutes! OMG! I wonder what the variable is?), calculating all my business expenses in time for my tax appointment, assembling pieces of do-it-myself wedding invitations that involves picking the backing off 400 little sniblets of double-sided tape, and doing my annual gear inventory at work, which is about as fun as going to the dentist. It always turns out to be more like a confessional with the guy who coordinates all our gear at the paper. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been six months since I've seen the Sony tripod with the broken hydraulic head, and last week my second flash fell into a river while I was photographing a water rescue. Cringe-y cringe, grovelly grovel.

I have to stick around the office for a little while longer in case something blows up. So.... anyway... Here's a picture of my cat! Upside down! Bella is not amused.