The Task At Hand

I have, yes, I have a big job ahead of me. It is cleaning my apartment. I have been drawing up design schematics and other associated outlines on what form this cleaning will take. Will it be "clean as I wander" (slowest, easiest)? Will it be "centalized cleaning" (single tidal wave pushing everything into one place)? Will it be "group and sort" (very tedious)? Who knows, but something must be done, and with me on the computer, I am conserned that I am wasting valuable time. It is 2 p.m. on Saturday. I do not have to work again until 10 p.m. on Monday. This ought to give me plenty of time right? Sure. I've been off of work for 2.5 days already and I still haven't done a lick.

I had a conversation about notebooks with Hillary. It was three or four days ago. I told her I bought 5 stripety notebooks for my new book, "Highway 9." Sounds reasonable, right? Now, you'll will all have to forgive her for the question she asked, she doesn't know me as well as ya'll do. You would never ask me this question. She asked, "Erik, what happens if you run out of matching stripety notebooks?" AH! I freaked. I covered my head in a blanket and excused myself from the phone for a minute. I had to hide. Today I went back to the store in hopes they had more notebooks of the same kind. They did! Relief. I bought 5 more. Do any of you think I'll need more than 10 notebooks? Two hundred pages each. Times 10 = 2,000 pages. I should be okay now.

My friend, Timmy, just left for San Antonio. We ate at Waffle House before he left. Our waitress had bubba teeth.

Nuclear Something,
Mungo

Song of the day: "The Eyes of Truth"