Whew. Some folks hate Mondays, but I’m telling you, any day I don’t have some undone chore leering over my shoulder is a very good day indeed.
Those of you who have actual jobs (my condolences) with regular days off (you sonsabitches) may not appreciate how sweet it feels for a freelancer to have a 24-hour period during which absolutely nothing of financial consequence needs doing. It’s like finding a Benjamin in your jeans while doing the laundry, pulling a goathead from a tire to find it still holds air, or hearing a lawyer say, “No charge.”
In a word: Fantastic.
Oh, there are a few items that will require a smidgen of my attention:
• I should hear from Voler today about the online store through which our fondest dreams are to be realized (yours, a new Fat Guy jersey; mine, obscene, unheard of and uncountable wealth).
• The Boo remains in recovery from dental work, and the meds are disrupting his regularity (I fear for our brick floors).
• And we’re still a one-car family, so I snoop around now and again to see if there’s anything out there that’s worth the trip to a car lot for one of those conversations (“Mr. O’Grady, what will it take to get you into this fine pre-owned automobile? Just let me talk to my manager. …”).
But mostly I plan to ride the bike. Blue skies, smiling at me … nothing but blue skies do I see.
Editor’s note: Looks like “Bloom County” is coming back. Getting better all the time. …
Editor’s note the second: Himself speaks with The New York Times.