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It’s been a long week, and it’s not even over yet. As The Boy would say, “Ah, shoot.”
Shoot, indeed. Things don’t look to lighten up and slow down until I’m sitting in a plane, heading to Russia. Until then, a gal’s just got to soldier on.
In the meantime, I’m hearing a very insistent voice that doesn’t belong to The Boy or the furbabies (for once!) It seems to be emanating from my bedroom.
I think it’s my pillow calling to me. This is what it keeps saying:
Эй, там Шанна, я жду ….
Очень умный!
Я люблю Вас! Спите хорошо!
(sorry, couldn't help but hit the translate button and join in the fun. Hopefully this isn't too far off.)
Спасибо, я буду. Любите Вас!