Had a *supercool* (that's ironic) Father's Day working my usual graveyard shift, then driving directly to RUM-fid (OK, Mexico) on little-to-no sleep to visit The Dad for like an hour (why does he always give me frozen kielbasa that's just gonna thaw by the time I get home and that I'm never gonna eat anyway? Oh he also gave my Christmas present -- a wallet for all that money that's burning a hole in my pocket, a holiday mug -- I totally love mugs -- and a t-shirt), then took the scenic route along Route 26 back, passing by the old summer stomping grounds, Littlefield Beaches, the setting of that novelish thing I still plan to write.

Oh yeah, that's right -- the novel. Must get back to that someday.

Napped in roughly half-hour increments over several hours at rest areas in K-bunk and Kittery in an unsuccessful attempt to rest up for an evening shift cleaning the gym my boss at the hotel also owns. Have I mentioned how much I HATE cleaning? This was the first time I'd ever done it for pay, and my legs feel like they're weighted down with lead. Carrying the backpack vacuum around for like an hour alone must have burned like 25,000 calories, and yet I hardly look like I've lost any weight AT ALL in the past week. Huh.

Yeah, this is kinda one of those mundane blog posts. Alas.