Kristin mercifully had Monday off work so we were able to kick it low-stress style at The Local Taco, where we split a pitcher of margaritas as the sky spit rain at us periodically. It was nasty and humid and lovely and tasty. I wish I hadn’t had to rush back to Memphis so soon, but I’m noticing more and more that my life these days is an ongoing string of sorry-to-run-but-I-have-to-be-here-at-this-time proclamations. I don’t know how I feel about that.