23 August 2005
Rob's worried that the internet now thinks he's lazy: sleeping until it's nearly gone ten and letting me make breakfast for him and all (actually, he might be fine with my making breakfast for him). Well, internet, revise your opinion.
Saturday night, our downstairs neighbours had the gall to throw a festive summer barbecue in the garden, playing loud music and shrieking drunkenly. Rob and I are more of the stay-inside and listen-to-Alan-Titchmarsh-talk-about-the-origin-of-the-word-spud variety, even on a Saturday evening. Neither of us even drink alcohol. Shock! Horror! Gasp!, etc.
Anyway, the loud music kept Rob up late, which was why he had to sleep in. Not so with me. I slept through the music, the same way I fall asleep with the bedside light on every night. I've even been known to fall asleep with the massive air conditioner blasting away two feet from the bed. I can't help it; I'm just so tired.
And that's what Rob was. Tired, not lazy.
Tired, not lazy: Gotcha.
[That's sorta like me...I'm wired, not crazy.]
My sympathies on the noisy night!
posted by Laura at August 23, 2005 12:00 AM
Now the Internet's going to think I'm overly worried about its opinion of me. It might even get the idea that I don't like wild and crazy parties with the drunken yelling and the manly intake of booze. Fix it Anna; tell people it ain't so.
posted by Rob at August 23, 2005 12:00 AM
The Internet knows who the party animal is in your household and it is not Rob. That picture the other day of Ira post-bath makes it pretty clear who in your little family enjoys a good drunken revelry.
posted by .d at August 23, 2005 12:00 AM