May 6: Back to the Daily Grind

Yes, I am home.  It was a long day of travel.  We left Brighton, Michigan, a little after 11 a.m.--much later than I planned to leave.  My sister, who was traveling with us, is notoriously terrible at staying on any kind of schedule.

The weather was beautiful for driving, sunny and temperate.  It was so temperate that we stopped about, oh, 500 times at rest areas and a little tourist trap of a place called Sea Shell City.  And when I say tourist trap, I mean tourist crap.  Think a live version of the Harriet Carter catalog.  My daughter talked my sister into buying her ten dried-up and dyed starfish which now reside on her desk in her bedroom.  Personally, I would never put the corpses of dead sea creatures in my sleep space.

Anyway, I need to get to bed since I'm back to the daily grind tomorrow.  Actually, I'm starting up my daily summer grind, which sounds kind of sexy but simply means that I have four months of twelve-hour work days ahead of me.  If that sounds hideous, it is.  I'm sure, after a couple of weeks, that it will soften from hideous to annoying.  Then, after about of month, it will only be inconvenient.  By the end of the summer, it may even be tolerable (if I have a few glasses of wine every night).

Saint Marty is tired, folks.  Time for shut-eye.  And by shut-eye, he means five hours of unsatisfying sleep interrupted frequently by periods of wakeful dread, waiting for the alarm clock to go off.

Don't stop, unless you want to 500 lbs. of crap