Get home.  It’s already nearly nine.

Go in to hug boy, who I haven’t seen since 8:30 this morning.

In process of putting boy to sleep, transition from “I missed you” to “Goddammit it’s time to go to bed, do you want to lose privileges tomorrow?” in the span of perhaps fifteen minutes.

Narrowly avoid an argument with an idiot stranger on Facebook.  Very narrowly avoid said argument.

See that “Jimmy Snuka” is trending, think Oh fuck you 2016, discover that I’m not quite right but I might as well be.

Current thought: Nachos after 9:00 PM are a terrible idea at my age, which does not mean they aren’t necessary.

That is all.