Changing Seasons and Determination

First, thanks for all the atta girls for the new design. (I tweaked it a little, if it still looks goofed in Firefox, let me know.) I think I'll redo the font on the linky bar, make it smaller and yellower, but other than that I'm pretty pleased with myself.

The tourist season is winding down in Frog Pond Holler. My feelings towards tourist season are kinda like how I feel about my uncle Alonzo. I look forward to his visits, but it doesn't take long for me to remember how much chaos he creates when he's here and I'm kinda glad when it's time for him to go back home.

There will still be the occasional hiker shlagging by the kitchen window, following the smell of greasy french fries wafting down from the Grab n' Go (and go and go) but the massive packs of stick weilding walkers, with a collective armpit odor the Pentagon could harness and use to power nuclear weapons, are gone until next summer.

Meanwhile, things at the Asylum are about the same. Bossman is a butthole, Lulu sits around wrapped up in a blanket and wearing gloves because the thermostat is sitting at a frigid 71° and the rest of us seem to be working harder and harder.

I'm not sure how that happens, but it seems to be the case.

I keep plugging along, still looking for another job. Which brings me to the new graphics card I ordered. I applied for a job with a company I've been doing business with for about three years. If hired, I'd be able to work full time from home and while I'm not that hopeful I'll get it, my computer's graphics card didn't meet their minimum requirements. My little box arrived today from Amazon, so now I'll be up to speed... if all goes well.

The new, larger dog lot still sits empty. I try not to look at the local Petfinder site, although there's now a litter of Malamute/Border Collie puppies. I'm determined to shake things up financially and I'm using my dream of a big, hairy critter to waller around to drive me. I won't get another one until I know I can afford to spoil it like crazy.

I'm still seeing the noggin doc, but we decided to cut back to once every three weeks. I don't panic anymore and it seems easier for me to focus instead of going off willy nilly in ten different directions at once. Now when Bossman goes off on a tangent, the top of his bald little head turning blood red, screaming obscenities and making a complete donkey's butt of himself, I just laugh, shake my head and move on.

I figure, he's gonna have his Underoos in a wad over something anyway, no matter what I do.

Anywho, I need to go fish the cat out of the sink, she likes to lick the dirty dishes, so I can load the dishwasher. The day is half over. I'll be glad to see five o'clock today.

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!