Last night, poor Gray walked in the door from work just as I finished reading the letter about how my financial aid was cancelled and the world was coming to a fiery end and how Jesus loves the little children of the world EXCEPT FOR ME. His reaction to the bad news proves he's the man of my dreams: He went to the fridge and brought me a beer and said, "Here, drink this."
Back off, he's mine.
I emailed my Jill the good news and said that maybe next time a problem presents itself, that I should remain calm and collected and wait to see what happens before I start writing my suicide note. And then she proved that she's the BFF for me with her reaction: "If you didn't freak out about things I would think something was seriously wrong," like maybe that I was abusing Rx drugs.
So Gray feeds me drugs and Michelle lets me know when I've got a problem with them. It's really the perfect scenario.
And now, some photos of places I'd rather be right now:
Grand Marais, MN (or anywhere with beaver flicks)((or beavers))
Custer State Park, SD