Arthur Miller, playwright, moralist. 1915-2005

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02.11.05

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Friday. While I'm hugely happy and grateful to be working, there's something lovely about not waking to an alarm tomorrow morning.

I'm getting better at the job. Slowly, slowly. Today I did some large format copying of blueprints. I was wafting and tacking huge sheets of paper all over the floor, trying to keep them clean, flat and in order. Then I laminated 200 information cards and pictures of a tortoise, a lion, a rabbit, a squirrel and a puppy. All the while dashing to the high speed copier in the back of the shop to keep an eye on another job that has 13,700 finished pieces.

Whee! I like days that have a steady flow of busy. Enough to make clock-watching undoable, but not overwhelming.

I went out for a little bit last evening. First time since I got the snots. Went to the Bonfire with Binkie and Treluv. We ate dinner. Talked. Treluv talked about a poetry workshop that he led yesterday. It sounded like a fun/strange/interesting thing to do. Over to Mojo's for some poetry. MlleM was her fabulous self.

Bugged out early.

Now to try to write some naughty poetry. There's been a challenge.

Bwah-hah-hah-hah-hah!

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