Happy birthday to

Happy early birthday to
Hello to new reader
*bounce*
Omigod.
So we're staying in this little bed & breakfast. Cute place. An apartment complex for widows from the 1920s, converted.
So we get in the room. Magazines everywhere, mostly about stuff to do in Atlanta, golf, etc...
And in the nightstand?
Hardcore DVD Reviews.
Omigod.
We gigglefitted. Of course we gigglefitted. We're pretty sure that that was not supposed to be there, y'know? Wow. And seriously, this ain't even a Hustler level of class. This is pictures of girls peeing and enticing you to lick their armpits. With accompanying grossout text. Not that I was grossed out, mind. Just gigglefitty. But seriously, man. I need to bring that home and type this shit up.
Wearing
Purplebluesilverblack stripey short-sleeved sweater, jeans. My Beaker panties. I guess they're a regular Friday thing...
Reading
The Upright Man by Michael Marshall Smith.
Planning
Miss Kid's best friend's birthday party tonight.
Decatur Arts Festival and Ru San's tomorrow, followed by the push to get everything out of the old house. PLEASE HELP US.
Seriously.
The reason I'm not supposed to be driving is that I'm not 100% street-legal - it hasn't been six months since my last seizure yet. And my medication makes it very difficult for me to focus on driving for more than ten minutes.
This is why I need your help.
I've been driving anyway, mind. Far more than I should. Wednesday, I went from work to the old house, packed stuff up and went to the new house, grabbed Miss Kid and took her to do Father's Day shopping; over an hour of driving.
Please, if you're going to be in town, just haul like one carload of boxes, okay? We need everything out - AND the house cleaned - by Monday. Which means, realistically, that everything needs to be out by tomorrow evening.