Good god, everything seems to get busy at once. If I wanted to date, I wouldn’t have the time, so it’s just as well that I don’t.

Work’s hectic. It’s hard being at the bottom of the manager mountain. You just end up with all of the shit piled up on you. I wish they had more people to boss around. It seems that this latest one is coming from a Senator. I’m thrilled, I’m sure.

I haven’t even started getting the old truck ready to sell. I have to take the trailer brake out and put it in the new one before next weekend’s camping trip, and I should transfer the toolbox pretty soon if I expect to get any work done. And I got steps for the truck so Seamus can get in and out (and I can see into the toolbox) and I have to mount them. Mounting them is more a case of looking sadly at my landlord until he does it, and maybe handing him tools and a beer. He’s the one who got all excited and opened the box, after all.

But I’m not going to do it right away, because this weekend I’m going fishing. I tried to put together a deep-sea trip and had four people lined up and the boat reserved, but every damn one of them canceled on me. So I’m going anyway. So what if I’ll be with strangers? I was with strangers all last week, and I was fine. I’m less thrilled about having to pay for a whole hotel room by myself, but it’s either that or sleep in the truck, and that option just didn’t sound like fun to me. I would stink in the morning!

So piss on ‘em. I’m going to go get me some salmon, and they can’t have any.