Who said miracles don't happen? This time one did. Marty's moving back home. Hopefully it will be this weekend, but there is one obstacle-Diane. She came over last night and said that she thought, because it snowed, he'd come and try to take the truck. (She doesn't know.) The only reason he'd want to take the truck would be to move his new TV back home. I'd love to tell her just to see the expression on her face.
On other fronts, I don't love anybody now, and no, not Cheryl. I don't know what prompted that. Must have been a rush of temporary insanity.
That Marty thing was the biggest news this week. I see it now-things are going to go back to normal-we'll go shopping for t-handle tap wrenches again!
So a guy moves out on his wife and shacks up with another woman. Eventually he changes his mind and decides to move back home, but doesn't tell his wife, and all is expected to be OK? Sounds kind of fucked up to me knowing what I know now, but it was...a more innocent time, I guess.
The t-handle tap wrench thing was a running gag between Marty and I. When we'd go to Sears in Brockton, I always told him that he should buy one, but he never needed them. Guess you had to be there.
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