(no subject)

Monday morning and boy am I tired. I shouldn't be - I slept like a log last night. I don't quite understand why sitting in a hot car for six hours should make a person so darn exhausted, but it did! I ended up leaving my parents' place just after one, zipped right along the 401 until I hit Cambridge then traffic came to a complete and utter stop. It took me three hours to get from Cambridge to Woodstock (usually about a 20 minute drive at the most) Turns out there was a pretty bad accident - three people dead - and the highway was completely shut down. It's a damn good thing I didn't take Seamus home with me!
I'm having company later this week, and I'm a little anxious about it. Shannon, the new morning girl on the Rock is hosting some event Thursday night and doesn't want to drive back to Leamington when it's over around midnight only to drive back into Chatham three hours later. So she asked if she could crash at my place, and I said sure - I wouldn't want to drive back that late either. I'll have to have an extra set of keys made (something I really should have done a while ago anyway) so she can get in, I'll have to be super quiet when I get up so as not to wake her, and god only knows what kind of trouble Seamus will cause.

(no subject)

My dad's turning 60 next month, and we're having a surprise party (of sorts) for him, complete with a collage of pictures of him, including several adorable pictures of baby dad. Earlier in the spring, my mum and I started putting together a collection of pictures, put them in a brown folder in my bedroom at their place for safe keeping. So when I was home this weekend I went to find the folder, maybe add some other pictures, but the folder is mysteriously gone. I searched the entire house and it's nowhere to be found. I have two theories on where it went - either my mother took it out and put it in some other secret hiding place and has since totally forgotten about it (she doesn't even remember that it existed in the first place), or my father found it, realized what we were doing, and hid it. Either way, this is bad news. That folder had pretty much every good picture of my dad from childhood to adulthood.