delirious on lit arts summits and not very much sleep. for the past 48 hours or so i've been extremely adult, taking notes during a panel discussion about nonprofit funding techniques, keeping on top of john about receipts for the budget report, setting up and tearing down and running around town.
then, tonight, referencing the smell of sardines from harlan's dinner:
me: "it smells terrible in here. it's like fish farts."
dave: "good luck with that."
me: "fish farts ... say it out loud ... say fish farts."
dave: "i will not."
me: "do it."
dave: "okay, i did."
me: "did you laugh?"
dave: "i shook my head."
me: "DID YOU LAUGH?"
dave: "I CHORTLED, OKAY?"
to do: get. a. full. night's. sleep. i hope, as i age and wrinkle, i get laugh lines first.