I was more or less guilted into staying home tonight and I'm in one of those moods where none of the things I could do (and I can think of many, that's not the problem) seems remotely interesting.
My mother coordinates the door-to-door collection of money in our neighbourhood every year for the charity that pays for research into better treatment of burns victims and for specialised hospitals. She had informed all the volunteers who do this important job that last Saturday was the deadline for handing in their collection boxes, but a full six of them didn't make it.
My parents left for their cottage (hence the deadline) and I was busy on Sunday and Monday (helping Sunshine move on Sunday, having lunch with K and the mayor of Amsterdam on Monday - the mayor didn't show - and dinner with my "secret" admirer) but I agreed to be home on Tuesday night to receive the stragglers. So my mother told them I'd be there at seven, however she didn't count on the fact that I often work a bit later when they're not at home, or on the fact that busses and trains aren't always reliable.
So I got there at 7.15 PM and apparently had already missed two of them and now I'm here again. It's past 9 PM and I'm going to have a shower because some of us have to get up early to go to work in the morning...
PS. I just remembered I had Return to Oz, so I watched the first twenty minutes of that. I may return to it later, while I'm letting my hair dry before bed.