Weekend

I had a good, but all too short weekend in Atlanta. My flight Friday was delayed for four hours, so it was after midnight when I arrived.

The first thing Punkin Head said to me was, "Do you have any babies in your womb?"

The first thing Monkey Boy said was, "I'm not a monkey boy, I'm a cockroach."

I think that about sums it up.

When I arrived at work, I had an incredibly unpleasant meeting with my managers. I won't share the details, but some of the potential negatives about my job (and, let's face it--all jobs have them) appeared to come true. I haven't thrown in the towel, but I am having to consider how to approach the various situations. My father always says, "All jobs have bullshit, it is the unnecessary bullshit that makes a job intolerable." I'd have to agree with him on that. Hopefully it doesn't get any deeper.

The final night of my murder class was last night. I didn't meet anyone with whom I will keep in touch, but I did have fun and found some new authors I will enjoy.

What's up with you?

If you could make a decent living doing anything at all, what would it be?