I Can't Think of a Good Title Right Now Because I'm Fighting With My Kids

I just got home from my first day as a volunteer at the art museum and it was fantastic! I clicked around in my cute little shoes and pretended it was my very own gallery, just like I've been dreaming about. It was just me and the security guard there, so I was the one in charge of the entire building. I loved everything about being there, especially discussing the exhibit with visitors as they left.
And it was quiet. Very quiet. I like quiet.
I got to sit and do nothing for a little while. Then I did some reading. Goya. Amazing man.
Spain in the early 1800's. Strange time.
The volunteer guide book. Interesting read. There was a whole page on multicultural manners, listing things to do and not do with people from other countries and people with handicaps.
And then I did some writing, because I promised I'd turn in two articles on Friday. The day before today.

So today was a day FULL of learning, but I'm heading out to a party and I don't have much time.

The art museum is my favorite place in town. It's also the best place for me to write.

Francisco Goya was deaf.

Spain was a horrible place to be in the early 1800's. The nobility to commoners rate was about 27 to 1, and crime was out of control. Look it up sometime. It's interesting.

In most other countries, it's rude to give the thumbs up sign. I'd love to elaborate, but I've gotta run.