Say goodnight, Dick. It’s over. The ship has sailed, the fat lady has sung, etc, etc. I’m out.
Here’s why: The Saga of Me, Chapter 918: The missus, love-of-my-life, brilliant editor, dozed off on page 51 of her first read of my 135-page novel. Dozed off. Zzzzzzzzz…
Okay, that’s it: just shoot me. I just can’t handle this pace. I’m starting to crack. I’m not a patient guy in the first place…
My boss significantly over-uses the phrase “death of a thousand cuts.” Like says it four or five time every day. I feel ya, man!
To fill the time whilst waitin’, I’ve been working on building a database of the historical aircraft in museums here in California. I just wrapped up recording the huuuge collection at the Planes of Fame museum in Chino, finishing with record number 268. That’s a bunch of airplanes so far.
The next museum, if one records them by their home city as I’m doing, appears to be right across the street, and has 190 planes. A HUNDRED AND NINETY?!? That’s like all the work I’ve done so far, and it’s just on one museum!
Just shoot me!
And this is only the data-entry portion of this project. In the next phase, I’ve promised to visit each museum.
How long is THAT going to take? The rest of my life? And I don’t have that much time left!
All seriousness aside, I’m just goofing around. Things take the time that they take, right? I mean, we’re busy folk, she and I. I get it. I get it. I can handle it. I can. Right?
But, I mean, really? The book can’t be that dull…
John D Reinhart 