Well, we all knew that this time would come.
Time for you daywalkers and normal 9 to 5 livers to go back to your fabric-covered cubicle lives.
Time for those of you with those children that don’t speak, only scream, the entire walk to and from the park, making my dogs think children are being sacrificed immediately past my home’s threshold, ensuring I get no work done from 11 to 1. Every. Single. Fucking. Day. It’s time for you to arrange for some childcare, or ballgags, and return to your position at Vitamin World.
It is time for everyone to put a tentacle into the surf and see if it comes back half lopped off.
Your government says so.
I will be here, posted on my porch with a pitbull or three, drinking coffee and taking notes. If anything interesting happens, I want to have my facts straight to tell anyone in the zipcode any form of new news.
I will miss you, daywalkers. You’ll all be busy beavers in the day, and van winkling through the nights. However, when you take your vacation, or a couple of sick days or your production facility takes the mandatory maintenance shutdown in June, I’ll still be entertaining you through the night with random tales of idiocy, and sometimes hero dog tales.
Godspeed, my friends.
April, you and I spoke once about our/my son that hasn’t spoken to us in eight years. I would really appreciate an opportunity to speak with you again if it would be OK?
Jeanne.french@gmail.com. Thank you