Some guy had been wandering through my neighborhood for the last 20 minutes or so yelling what I assume is the name of his dog. It's sad, and I wish him luck. But seriously: "Anton"? I can't say I blame it.

In other news, I'm kind of exhausted. This weekend has involved 450 miles of travel (spread over four legs) and a grand total of seven scheduled events. All but one of those involved drinking, so I suppose I shouldn't really complain. Yet I'm clearly doing it anyway — sorry about that.

But right now I have an hour to myself, a sunny couch to lie on, and the presumably-excellent Chronicles of Riddick on TV. Time to upload some photos and begin the process of forgetting to do my timesheet. Ahh, Sunday.