Things are piling up.

Alright, well got another assignment overnight. Sounds like the septic needs to be pumped again. I guess this is what teenagers are about. It hasn't been that long ago that it was pumped. Maybe two years. I will check and call tomorrow. That means it's time to uncover the risers again.

I need to take Ben's truck out to the tire place to have the left rear fixed or replaced. That will be tomorrow too. They're closed today. I always find problems between the close of business on Friday and Sunday night, dependant on the severity.

I had a couple dreams last night, again mostly this morning. The most vivid one had to do with my old turntable. I found it and lifted the tonearm and it came off and then fell apart in my hands. The Ortofon cartridge disassembled onto the floor and I tried to find all the pieces so I could put it back together again.

I'm not looking forward to uncovering the risers on the septic. Suddenly it's all I can think about. I'm picturing it in my mind and I'm already picturing the problems with it.

I'm not that guy anymore and I don't know when I shifted over. It's frightening. I used to like doing things that I could do. That sounds strange but it's true. All that stuff in the shop. Those were all things I liked to try doing. I couldn't do them all but I liked trying.

Now just the thought of doing them frightens me. Really, I'm talking about a short little project. Maybe 30 minutes.

I don't know what the answer is to that. I do know that I should be writing on the story today but instead, I feel like just watching a movie and taking a nap instead. Maybe I should start arranging a day or two off during the week. Instead of writing every day. With the hope that I'd be more productive on the days I did write. I don't know if that's realistic or not.

More later,


Photo credit: PMillera4 via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND