In Which I Finally Make It to Poetry Friday

I usually get my Poetry Friday post done on Thursday night or Friday morning but this week my entire routine was off. We were out late-ish night and didn't have our usual Friday activities and that always throws me.

So, my "poetry" today is a slapped-together account of last night. It doesn't really count as poetry but I'm counting it because I'm flexible like that.

Greatness Thrust Upon Them* 
(by someone who doesn't have a real poem this week)

Meet up with Magical Mrs. M.
Caravan.
Drive for two hours.
(And fifteen minutes
if you count two bathroom breaks.)
Watch friends in convivial version
of Twelfth Night
that includes songs like Locomotion
and Addicted to Love and
You and I (Ingrid Michaelson,
not Lady Gaga.)
Hug friends.
Congratulate them.
Tell them they are awesome. (They are.)

Make sure everyone goes to the bathroom.
Hit the road.

Drive.
Consider coffee.
Reject coffee.
Arrive home at 11:15 p.m.
Find note from Atticus on door:
"I'm asleep. Shut up."
Laugh out loud.
Eat chocolate cake, of course.
Kiss daughters goodnight.
Go to bed.
Forget about Poetry Friday.

* "Be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them." ~~ Twelfth Night
~~~~~~~~~~

The round up this week is at The Opposite of Indifference.