I can’t believe how fast this week is going by.  Why do weeks fly by when you have all kinds of crap to get done by the end of them?  It’s Wednesday already.

By Friday, I must:

• Customize the work laptop I’ll be taking to Canada so it’s useful for me when I’m there.
• Put the finishing touches on my presentation.
• Save multiple copies of my presentation in case something goes haywire.
• Arrange transportation from the Toronto airport to Guelph, where the conference is.
• Make sure things here at work are under control; set away messages on voicemail and email.
• Get an anniversary card for Denny.

By Saturday, I must…

• Pack, both for the conference (business casual, I suppose) and for Norway (sporty-outdoorsy, plus wedding guest attire), since I’m not going to be home between the trips.
• Make sure my passport and finances are under control.  Put plenty of money in my checking account (I’ve found it’s easier to access a checking account than a savings account from foreign ATMs) and pay any bills that are going to come due while we’re gone.
• Have a romantic anniversary date with DC, but be careful not to drink too much, because I have to be at the airport kind of early.

Speaking of anniversary drinking, one really nice wedding gift we got was a beautiful wine box with three really lovely bottles of wine in it.  Each bottle had a tag on it in which the giver explained that we were supposed to have one on our first anniversary, one on our second, and one on our third.  I’m excited to open the first one, especially because it’s champagne, which is my favorite food.  I was already a little sad in advance, though, for when we used them all up.

Denny came up with the great idea of buying another nice bottle on each anniversary to replace the one we consumed.  That way it will be a perpetual gift for our future selves.  I’m looking forward to picking out a fourth anniversary bottle this weekend.

We grilled more pizzas last night.  Well, to be fair, Denny grilled the pizzas.  I just floured the cutting board, formed the dough, chopped up the toppings, thawed the sauce (frozen from last summer’s tomatoes), blended the sauce for a more homogenous texture, decided the sauce was too thin, added some tomato paste, brushed the crusts with oil, put the pizzas on the grill, brushed the other side of the crusts with oil, put the toppings on the pizzas, cut and plated the pizzas, and made a salad.

As we ate, Denny said, “This was easy!”  Bless his heart.  To his credit, he did start the grill, flip the dough, and remove the pizzas from the grill.  Sure, it wasn’t beef Wellington, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call it easy.  Throwing a frozen pizza in the oven is easy.