Friday morning, and I'm starting to feel a little like The Prisoner Of Zenda, or maybe Rapunzel at the very least...

Still no ladder, no sign of Purolator. I'm convinced that Murphy's Irrefutable Law Of Ladder Delivery will kick in, should I leave the house even momentarily, just to check our mailbox. Even if I've only just left the house for a few seconds, THAT is when the delivery guy will show up, and depart just as fast should he find nobody home. I'm totally handcuffed, unable to get on with my life until that blasted package arrives!!

I suppose I could be doing some of those chores that my wife has left me notes about, throughout the house. Plus, we still are nowhere close to being organized, since our recent move, so I could try doing a bit of that.

However, I prefer to sit and anguish over my predicament, rather than be pro-active, and get my mind off what may have happened to my ladder. Has the delivery guy decided to use it himself, to hang his Christmas lights?? Has his teenaged son stolen it, to elope with that hussy down the street?? Has someone baked it into a cake, and sent it to their brother, to help him escape his own incarceration?? How ironic would that be??

As I sit here conjecturing, a far more important thought comes to mind: I wonder if Starbucks delivers?

Chow for now!!