"I want to do a sports guy!"
"Which one?"
"I don't know. Is Tiger Woods from Ohio?"
"No, I don't think so. Let me see...Oh, Jesse Owens is from here!"
"Who's that?"

This went on and on for most of the afternoon. As near as I can tell, the most exciting people from Ohio were Thomas Edison, the Wright Brothers, and Neil Armstrong, but nobody wants to read about them. I'm not about to search through every biography on the shelf to see where the most modern popular figures were born, and the "Famous Ohioans" almanacs are mostly so old as to only showcase the people considered "boring" by the kids. Maddening, I tell you.

It was absolutely stifling in here last night, so that may have contributed to my fatigue. Now it's thunderstorming, and thanks to a restless night that resulted in little actual sleep, I'm jittery and almost jumping out of my seat every time the thunder cracks through the sky. I'm normally not afraid of storms, but I will be grateful when this one ends. My hair is standing on end as it is.

I had a meeting with both Boss-Lady and Boss-Zilla (oh, the humanity!) this morning to talk about the library web page. The meeting itself wasn't important, but the fact that I went into it feeling exhausted and skittish already didn't make for a pleasant morning. When one particularly loud thunderclap hit, I almost stood bolt upright. Boss-Zilla cocked an eyebrow. "Scared of thunderstorms?" At that point, I could hardly say, "No, I'm just not comfortable right now," so I just nodded and grinned weakly. I think I need to go home.

Driving home, I was feeling miserable until I saw an unusual sight - Eric's car! Parked in our driveway! Before seven o'clock! I rushed inside to find him lying in bed reading; as it turned out, they simply - wonder of wonders - ran out of work to do last night, so everybody got to go home to their families. We were able to go out for dinner and bask in each other's company. I haven't had as good a meal in weeks, though it was nothing but a simple salad. I suppose the awful days we've been having must have earned us that bit of happiness.

The evening did have one small "snag," though not necessarily a bad one. Laurie called just as we were leaving; she and her boyfriend will be driving through Toledo tonight on their way to Michigan, and want to stop for a visit. Part of me tried to jump with glee, immediately tripping and stumbling over the other part, which had sunk to the floor at the thought of preparing the apartment for company. I love our friends, but they never did seem to pick up the knack for giving sufficient notice for a visit. At least Laurie won't be too surprised; she lived with Eric for a year at West Virginia, so she knows his usual housekeeping habits.

If I feel up to it, I'll take pictures of the visit. Laurie's a grand girl, so I know it won't take long for me to overcome my anxieties over the state of the apartment.

Eric is frustrated by my need.

"But this is a nice apartment!"
"I know, but look at this ad I found."
"You were the one who made us move into this one!"
"Yes, and it's nice, but I'd like to look elsewhere anyway."
"But I like it here!"
"And you'll like it somewhere else."

On and on it goes. He's standing firm on the fact that we won't move unless we can get a significantly better rent, or else significantly more room. Going on those criteria, I found an ad for a place where, for the amount we pay now, we can get three bedrooms instead of two. Maybe we'll take a look at it this weekend; Eric is grudgingly interested.

Luckily, in our current apartment, we will be renting on a month-to-month basis starting next month. We'll be able to stay for as long or as short a period as we see fit. I suppose we could stay; maybe if I could find a way to rearrange enough furniture, I'd be satisfied, at least temporarily.