Rikity Tikity Liftie, the elevator to our flat, has gone from moaning and groaning to out of commission for the weekend. This meant I got to carry my bike up five flights of stairs. I am grateful that shadowdaddy got me a little wisp of a bike before he shoved all of our stuff onto the great big boat, or I would not have been able to make it up the stairs today.
There's work humor to relate, too (summary: shit happens), but it all seems pretty irrelevant now that I'm home. I was saying I'd go out dancing tonight, but somehow sitting here, eating some nice stewed chicken (possibly with some sort of pasta in a saffron cream sauce as a primi) with shadowdaddy and wechsler sounds way more appetizing. We'll see how I feel after a nap.