Just as I was about to start banging out this blog entry, I got a message from Larry & Carol about a missing 18-year-old from an encampment on the other side of town, who was wandering out in the…

Sorry! As I was writing that, I got another call from Terry, who said some lanky teenager just jumped out in front of her son’s side-by-side while out on the trails. Worried about him, they contacted the sheriff.

Alright, I gave Terry’s intel to Larry and Carol, and that should be that. Time to get back to…

Oh, sorry again… Facetime call from Larry and Carol. Going back over that stuff with them, we’re on the same page. Great! Now to finally…

HOLD ON… Just got a message from my wife at Winco about what’s for dinner. This actually required me to leave the desk and confirm whether or not, we have pepperoni. We did not. She’ll need to grab some more for us to make tortilla pizzas.

OK… SITTING DOWN TO WRITE THIS DAMN STORY!!

“Ding” goes the messenger. This time, it’s Greg asking about those free golf cart tires he hit me up to grab from the golf course. A couple hours ago, he was asking for this while I was getting ready to do a Zoom meeting with folks I’m about to be doing a radio show with. Since they were closer to the golf course, I had asked Larry and Carol to grab those, just before the missing teen incident occurred.

OK, cops, Larry and Carol are on the hunt for the teen. Greg’s tires are secured.

Let’s see… what was I going to write about? I know it was something about struggling. I was probably going to mention how I’ve been waiting for that final paycheck from the newspaper since before Christmas.

I was definitely gonna bring up how my daughter just stood up to grown men at the local Subway restaurant, where she quit her job after realizing they never filled out any tax papers on her, after paying her cash for all the months she’s worked there. I might have even brought up the health concerns of the locked up and abandoned men’s room in there, which I bet will add some unpleasant aroma to the sandwich shop. Yeah… don’t eat there, Dayton. New owners are NASTY.

Surely, I would have written about the feelings of panic arising from my currently zero income, and how we pulled from the mortgage to pay the gas bill. That’s on my brain pretty hard.

I’m just not feeling it anymore. That creative spark will soon be used to light up a bowl of some free bud from a friendly neighbor. I’ll toss on the headphones, probably listen to some angry Gen X music, then go wash some dishes so we can get to the sink again. It fills up in a small house with 6 Wooleys.

Happy Monday! LOL