crêpe hog day

So, I'm sitting here alone at druid labs east, waiting to hear about our offer. Fly in the ointment = 11th hour buyer, with an escalation clause. Which is to say: they'll raise their offer to x dollars over ours up to y dollars. hobbitt made the call on this one. I didn't think he had it in him. He must really, really like this house. Of course, he's out playing volleyball tonight.

Evidently my blood pressure is under control now. My head felt like it was about to explode when I was at the doctor's office today. That's usually the case. They have Fox News blaring in the waiting room and no way to turn it down. It's extremely hard to miss the way the talking heads lead some interviewees and bait others, with no attempt to hide their fair and balanced bias. Shameful, in fact, but I suppose that's just how it's done now (i.e., delivering what the target audience wants to hear rather than delivering facts), which is why I choose to read the news from various sources rather than listen to any of it.

So it's 130 over 80. My blood pressure, that is. The pressure in my head is probably due to the tension in my neck and shoulders. I do believe that a stiff martini (is there any other kind?) might loosen that up a bit, but it's only 7:30 p.m. and I might have a long night ahead of me. So I'm swigging seltzer and playing Canasta. I'll be fine.

Phil predicted a long winter. Considering how freaking long it took to get here, no wonder. A friend tells me the French eat crêpes on this day. I'll join them, but I'll roll mine around a sweet crunchy rodent, extra sauce.