The squeek of the door in the hall where I live
and the sounds you make say you're back again
But it's no surprise 'cause nothing's changed
that is, until we run out of days

Just returned from a delicious meal and got off the elevator. Saw Erynn on the couch talking to someone on her speed-dial. Koz poking around looking to stir up trouble. The girls down the hall playing some John Mayer/Howie Day/Bill Martin song I hadn't heard before, but I tried to hum along. Sauce might be procrastinating or trying to rid his clothes of the stench of shrimp. In other words, an average night here at my current abode. It's getting to the point where I can count down the remaining days on fingers and toes. And out of nowhere comes this weather. The smell of spring can make a person fall in love. So where are you hiding?