you know you’re getting old…

…when you buy a Paul Anka album, and you *like it*.

OK, to be fair, they’re not really Paul Anka songs. If you’ve got iTunes, try this one on for size. We first heard a few songs off this album yesterday at Exil (our favorite Kurdish restaurant, for the uninitiated), and Sarah had to hit me a couple of times to knock the lounge crescendo and vibrato out of me. Good thing we were the only ones in the restaurant.

rock swings

It’s been a difficult week…2 weeks even (sorry guys, that’s why I haven’t written much). Sarah’s been sick pretty much since we got back from Puerto Vallarta. At first, I thought it was simply jet lag and withdrawal (who could blame her?), and then perhaps her allergies making themselves known in the face of a pollen onslaught. But even on rainier days she has a terrible cough that has recently become…productive. So she went to the doctor yesterday and got herself a diagnosis and some antibiotics. We should have this thing beat within 5 days.

My membranes are all behaving themselves (like they usually do), but my projects at work are not. I’m in the extreme upper range of allowable overtime hours. You can’t accrue indefinitely, but you can at least count on getting comp time or the hours paid out up to a certain limit. Pretty soon, if I don’t take some comp time or get paid for some of those hours, the company will just refuse to acknowledge any work I do over my 8-hour per day contract. Going on vacation for 3 weeks is great — don’t get me wrong — but the hassle associated with coming back afterwards is daunting.