You Can't Call It a Day

I had to be at work before seven to oversee something that was supposed to take a few hours but ended up chewing up most of my Saturday. Needless to say, I was more than a little bit grumpy when I got home this afternoon. After a long nap and a short run Dan and Steve came over and Bevan served up an incredible spread and I drank two vodka sodas and some red wine and we laughed and enjoyed one another's company and as I crawled into bed a few minutes ago I had a smile on my face and was reminded of a passage from Anna Kendrick’s memoir (which I finished earlier this week) about the emotional two days of travel she endured in order to attend her grandmother's funeral in the midst of two film shoots.

We landed, I got my work permit, made it through customs, and checked into my hotel. I'd been awake for thirty-two hours, but I still ordered a burger and a vodka, 'cause sometimes you can't call it a day until something good happens.