Wait. We're leaving when? I see...Right...Excuse me. I need to have a seizure.

Looks like this is it: my last week of work. Which is not to say I won't be waiting tables by month's end. Hell, I could be on the corner, tap dancing with my banjo for your coffee change. But, the old, tried and true nine-to-five: that's done. Yet, I'm getting ahead of myself. I've got a couple more days, so I best sit tight. I think all the clocks here have stopped anyway.

In sharp contrast to the molasses-y boredom here at the workplace, the weekend in birdmonsterland was rather eventful. We got the final mix for a yet unnamed song and a really rough but really wonderful mix of a ass-shaking sort of ditty called Alabama. Not much can be said except that the first exceeded my expectations, while the second will be doing so shortly. It has that feel to it already. Katrina, our resident designer-of-all-things-except-show-posters-and-the-website, made a glorious shirt which is going to press today as well as some business cards, which are boring to you, but make me feel rather saucy. I feel like I should be smoking a pipe at all times if I have business cards, but I'm unsure exactly where this feeling comes from.

We also dealt with our transportation debacle...and by that I mean we had a spirited discussion & woke up this morning without a van but with a plan, which rhymes, so you know there's something to it.

In fact, there's an overwhelming feeling right now that everything's coming to a head. Because, well, it is. Funny how that works out.

But I have faith. I'm an optimist. You get lemons, you make lemonade. You got no van, you go get one. Or, you take the most ferocious cross-country bike ride of all time. That would make for some good pictures, at the very least. Plus, I'd wear one of those old Harley helmets, you know, the ones that sort of look like plastic yarmukles? Yeah. I'd look smooth with that on.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get some putty squirted into my ears so I don't go deaf.