Cracking

Or at least I think I am. It's either that or my mental energy has overcome my physical energy. In other words, I have been exerting more energy to my imagination and wishfullness, but not enough to getting my ass off the computer and go organize that once comffy (how the fuck do you spell that?) place in my basement. So much shit has been moved around and back and around from Florida to Atlanta to Augusta to Atlanta to Augusta.

I tried to chill in a bath last night - the weather is nice and it helps whatever shit muscles I have left. So, for S&Gs, I open the Williams-Somoma "HOME" catalog. This is good stuff, but I have to say, I much prefer my bohemian collection of dumpster items - I shit you not.

There was a table in the catalog that looked exactly like the one we dragged out of Florida, but this one was finished and had brass accents. OK - When I'm 60, I might do that but in the meantime, I just like the one I have with the scratches and nicks. I've always believed in the "character" of the piece and MAN this table can tell a long story.

I was up until 2ish last night because I kept thinking of stuff to do on Daddy's house. I have another renter who happens to be from Atlanta and his brother is coming from London, plus their partners. We've had some good e-talks and since I posted a "only mature party people" item in my add, he's assured me that they are only into Master's for G-O-L-F and BBQ (and the man knows how to use proper English!). Sadly, he wrote last night and said he found another house about a mile closer, but seemed really greatful for my BBQ place suggestions. Then I get two more ads, one from StubHub?? Don't ask me, but as I understand it, they are a ticket broker. The other from a guy saying his kid has leukemia and he's part of the March of Dimes group looking to take kids to the Masters. Why does my cynical self have a problem with this one? Let me count the ways.

First, this could be total horseshit and these are a group of college kids looking for all night keggers in Daddy's backyard.

Second, if this does turn out to be a real charity case, am I supposed to give them a break on the price and cut into my projected profit? Shit, where did that guilt-feeling coming from all of a sudden --- oh yeah, Catholic school. It will pass.

OK, well, I just wrote back the chemo-kid's dad. I guess I can call it that because I just went through hell with my Mum going through chemo and she's not eleven years old. I didn't rip them off, but since Make-a-Wish is paying for it and the kid is hosted by Aaron Baddeley, maybe this will allow me to break even. Holy shit, what a stress this has become.

I guess we'll see if I made the right decision when I get to hell.

There is so much shit to do at Daddy's, I'm getting nervous. I wish to hell I could get ahold of some of the folks I've been trying to call all week, but nobody is calling me back.

I think I might steal one of the cat's Prozac pills. Just kidding - I'd only take the Valium.

On another note, I'm going to California in three weeks to VACATION. What the fuck is that? I don't know, but I do know that if I work it out, Tech will pay for the whole thing and the best part ---- it's all legal. "But what will you do", I was asked. Hmmmmm, let me think? Palo Alto-Sheraton (king suite) hotel-pool-spa-shopping-eating-reading ... just what will I do??? Sadly, I'm thinking of dragging a laptop out there and working (a little) just so I don't have to burn my leave. Besides, I can handle my job if I'm sitting by a pool with a Mai Tai in one hand and the Pacific Ocean a 30 minute drive away.

Shit, I have so much to do, I think I'm having an anxiety attack.