Miracles in Manicures

We actually progressed this week. Real progress spurred by the fear today will be like yesterday. Some of these thoughts I inherited from the previous regime currently watching the World implode on CNN. We all know the World isn't imploding, it's seeking Patch and we're giving it to them.

You know what you've always wanted? a tee shirt. Check out our store we ever we get around to one.

Messes and Their Meaning

My name is Bernie and I took over Jotsalot Media in a bloodless coup. I'm not saying persuasion wasn't administered, but waking up to a pillow over your face hardly seems excessive.

You know what is excessive? A documentary titled "Grizzly Uprising", on Animal Planet, when all it is is a presentation of highly-communicative bears embracing people trying to play dead. If we were "mauling" you, we'd send you to a weekend seminar on feelings.

There were no hurt feelings in the coup.  He welcomed the relief to focus on getting his health headed in the right direction. Just a hunch, but when you keep getting hurt at work you're doing it on purpose. 

What changes at Jotsalot? More of a focus on me and Norma Timpkins. Chelsea has asked to be involved and I welcome her back. No other changes other than leaning on John to fix what's eating him and it isn't me.

Bernie Assumes Control

Handing all blogging responsibilites over to Bernie. Bernie will also be working closely with Norma Timpkins to bring her books to market.

I will be dealing with physical issues for a couple months.

Body Count

Right: three fingers and wrist
Left:  one finger and srist

Falling down ain't what it used to be.

Saturday the 14th

I'm switching to Saturdays. Fridays, after a week of frustration and hate, doesn't work. Not even close to working.

Packaged for your Convenience

Three days from now I land in Lisbon.

Mayonnaise All Over Again

Casual conversations about when was the last time you saw your neighbor rarely end well.  No matter how non-judgemental the police officer's expression, you just know what he's thinking.

I'm not.alone in blame. There are other neighbors, waitresses, family, and even himself. In fact, let me rationalize away the guilt and say it was mostly his fault.  He could have made friends, volunteered, or introduced himself, but he didn't. or couldn't.

He waited two weeks for someone to miss him enough to check on him.  In the end it was a full mailbox that lead to my conversation with the police.  It was from them, after two years of living next to him, that I learned his name.

Again, not really my fault.  I just kind of keep to myself after work, don't really talk to anyone, never have my phone on, which doesn't really matter since no one has the number.  Nothing I could have done differently would have saved him from his fate.