Someday, I’ll get to go home.

We came into The Interior, to celebrate Father’s Day on Friday. Planned to return on Monday.

Changed to Tuesday, so we could drop Spawn’s camera off to a camera repair shop in the morning. (The battery cover won’t catch and you have to hold it shut. There is no camera repair in Savannah – not much of ANYTHING in Savannah – except Geek Squad at Best Buy and they won’t touch it because it’s ‘too old’ (I bought it in December of 2009.) The clerk then looked at it and said, they say it’s too old because they want you to buy a new one every 2 or 3 years. But if I were you, I’d keep it and find somewhere that would repair it, like in Atlanta. This is a really nice camera!

I would hope so. I paid more for it than I’ve paid for most of my laptops!

Camera repair shop has MOVED another 25 miles further down the road (it was already 25 miles down the road) so by the time we got home, it was.

HOT!

So we’re NOW going to leave in the morning.

I want to go home. I love my home. I’m a home-body. I miss my home. I miss my kitties rubbing against my calves or snoozing up behind me on my big comfy chair. I miss Sir Thunderbutt crying all afternoon, trying to convince me it’s 5 PM and dinner time when it’s really only 2:30 and no, son, I’m not buying that shit. Cry me a river.

I’m going to be driving while drinking water and soft foods. I have the doctor’s appointment from hell on Friday morning.

Yes, I know you loved hearing me tell you that.

Here. Have some Richard.

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