I think my arms want to break up with me

Because I made them carry home a 15 or so pound table in a box from work (all smashed flat in a little box). It hurt a lot. There was burning and an inability to work them for a few minutes after I finally got to set the tables down. Yeah, so that happened.

Then the kitteh's (and I am looking at you James Dean) tried to eat my sammich before I ate my sammich, and this did not sit well with me. However, I defended my sammich's honor.

Speaking of eating, Sam took me to Gibson's last night for dinner. It was outstanding. Their food is crazy amazing, and by food I mean meat because mostly that is what they cook. The ginormous "small" sirloin I had was exquisite! Best steak I ever, ever had. So yummy. I do though find it funny that they explain to me what medium meant--I know, I grew up on a farm I could show you on a real animal where my steak came from and I could do better with more cuts on a pig and I could even point out some cuts on a lamb, I get it. I mean turns out I am not just a pretty girl in a dress and high heels.

Which leads me to a dress and high heels and tights in the winter on Chicago streets. Yup, I walked slow, and yes I did feel ridiculous. But I looked pretty for the v-day dinner. I guess that was the important part, and I did strongly suggest we take a cab home from dinner.

Tomorrow is the valentine's day. Still don't know what Sam got me. That may not happen until the weekend because it turns out I won't get to see my fabulous new boyfriend on or very first valentine's day. Oh well!