The Mr. is headed into surgery at 10:30 or 11:00 this morning. He's traveling light: nothing to eat or drink since midnight, a toothbrush, and his robe. That's it.
I'm packing my coffee cup, a book, and my cell phone. I'd have packed papers to grade, but I knew it was stupid to cart them around when there was little chance I'd get around to grading them.
The calendar says Friday, but it doesn't feel like one. We'll try again next week.