F'ing finally. I arrive home at 2:30 after another orgasmic day at work. Open the freezer. Yup, got ice. Check the fridge. Yup, limes. Check my booze collection. Triple sec? New bottle. Tequila? 3 bottles (ok, I like to booze it up a bit, part of the routine when you're the IT guy for a substance abuse facility). Lemme see...the Sauza Hornitos Tequila? Nah, too good. The Pepe Lopez? Nah, I'll save that crap for cleaning bike parts or removing the nonskid from the deck of an aircraft carrier. The Sauza Conmemorativo? Perfect. Into the shaker it all goes. Shake it gently, you don't want to bruise anything. Pour into glass, let rest.

Open the humidor, grab a Don Tomas SE 400. Where's the lighter? Ah, here. Cutter? On the keychain (there is something classy about driving to work at 5am, windows and sunroof down, smoking a good cigar).

Grab drink, now for some tunes. The Clash, "Sandinista". The wife tosses on Santana, the child wants Blur. Outside we go.

No bugs, a light breeze, 72 degrees. The deck is warm from today, the brick of the house radiating heat still. We cool out and chat while we finish the margarita and cigar (OJ for the kid).

Odd thing...the mrs wouldn't approve a new rim/tire combo, but she did approve me going to Tamarindo for a couple or three weeks and a new Byrne/Tom Carroll epoxy surfboard. Oh, the deal is she and the child get to go. Can't bitch, it's her $$ (mrs owns some drilling rights that they struck on it).

My head is gonna hurt in the am.