Ugh.

Ben is in Phoenix for the long Memorial Holiday weekend.  My plans were to use these couple days of "me" time to see the movies he had no interest in seeing.

You would think that after the Battleship fiasco, I'd pay more attention and trust Ben's Spidey Sense when it comes to movies, but nooo...

This afternoon after getting back from the airport, I went to see Chernobyl Diaries.

There will be no snarky review this time. I knew after about 45 minutes it wasn't going to get any better and would probably end horrifically, so I walked out and got my money back. Of course, the fact I walked out (something I have not done for many, many years) is a review in and of itself.

I had also planned on seeing Cabin in the Woods tonight, but after this I just thought, "Why bother?"

So what did I do with the rest of my day?  After dropping off two bags of old clothes I'd been carrying around in the back of Anderson for the last week at the local ARC store, I came home, ripped a couple pieces of vinyl into iTunes, finished up the laundry, and began some much-needed anal-retentive cleaning. I didn't get as much done as I'd hoped; it's been a few months since I really did the pull-all-the-knicknacks-off-the-shelves-and-dust thing, but there's always tomorrow. At least the laundry basket is empty.

And now I have two nights of tossing and turning to look forward to. Despite the fact that I can, in the immortal—if politically incorrect—words of the indomitable Lucile Watson as Mrs. Morehead in The Women, "spread out on the bed like a swastika" in Ben's absence, I just don't sleep well when he's not here.