So... I come home from my post-workout cool-down at Starbucks, where I've rewarded myself with my favorite toffee nut iced coffee.
(While there, I somehow wound up serving as the middle girl in an animated text message exchange between my manager L and April. The end result is that L announced the following:
a) My parents need to adopt both her and April. (She's tasted my mother's brownies; 'nuff said.)
b) She is going to join April and I on our girls-only road trip. Well, one of them, anyway; we're up to about ten destinations so far!
We were a bit reluctant to add anyone, even someone as cool as L - until she mentioned her Dad's vintage '65 Mustang.
His fire engine red Mustang.
Which is a convertible.
And which comes with a working 8-track player.
L and I are hoping that the smelling salts finally awaken April from her bliss-induced reverie upon hearing all of this at some point in the next 24 hours.)
But I digress.
Again. :c)
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