I must read an obscene amount of fairly dry literature this weekend in order to write a paper for American History, due Tuesday. As well, I have a proposal to write for a paper in Anthropology, due on Monday, and I haven't read any of the literature for that, either. Plus it's Allan's birthday today (well, Friday, which is no longer today), which we're celebrating on Sunday with an inaugural visit to the International Children's festival -- conveniently located across the water from my building -- to be followed by a big kid-friendly meal at White Spot on Georgia St. (my suggestion, to avoid the co-ordination involved with picnic food).
Why do I always do this to myself -- leave things to the last minute? I'm worse than Ross. I put the blame squarely on him for my poor work habits.
Oh, at least today I got Ross and Lee to make the first preparatory step towards a retirement party: choosing the day, which will be Friday, November 28. It's shaping up to be an event of epic proportions...