Maura's Illuminated Manuscript

Korean barbecue at Shilla is delish. (Wah that they closed their Redmond store.) I think it's about to become a birthday tradition. There appears to be no diference, unfortunately, between soju and vodka.

Two days until my company moves a mile away to a space that has working heat five days a week, toilets that flush on the first try, and stall and cabinet doors that are attached. Woohoo! My enthusiasm for packing and throwing stuff out is freaking out my cow orkers a little, but I think they understand.

The Wendling seems to be at long last taking an interest in what his parents think of how he behaves. He got weepy last night when Her Nibs pointed out that he'd forgotten to go in the bathroom to poop (he's still using a pull-up, but we're trying to get him to at least go in the john as an intermediate step). He also drew realistic hair on people and dogs for the first time yesterday. I love good kid weeks. Last week was a cold-induced impy week, so of course that was the week his grandmother was in town.

Her Nibs has found another freelance gig that'll replace most what she lost and isn't a Regular Job® with a commute, meetings, and panty hose. I thought she'd find something before it really got critical; she's done it before.

And yay sushi lunch with Wendy!