My husband makes me laugh. We're both having a hard time at work (he's frantically busy, and I'm in the midst of apalling politics). I've just come off a two hour phone conference at 11.30pm with the UK, in which I said the grand total of 17 words. So much for getting some packing done tonight.
He's suggested that we throw it all in and open a restaurant. He's even named it - The Latke Palace. It would specialise in Hungarian waiters, and serve very large schnitzels. Bring it on.
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