Friday : 29 September 2006
It was a busy day that ends the week, but the week is over.

Clitorati was small tonight; nevertheless, it was good.

Tomorrow, I’m flying to Oklahoma.  I’ll see Adam and Chelsea for a little bit… then, I’m turning around and driving back.  Just like Smokey and the Bandit.  But without Burt Reynolds.  Or Jerry Reed.  Or Sally Field.  Or Jackie Gleason.  And, alas, without the semi full of beer.

I should be in bed.  O’dark-thirty comes early.  I’m both “tired” and “not tired,” I don’t think that’s a terribly good combination.  But, damn the clowns, I need to sleep.

Namaste.