Calling It an Early Night


Dammit! I forgot to check in on my bid on eBay and somebody else bought my blanket! I want to Quest on “Celebrate Horses” and then use it for Mother’s memorial chair at next year’s Dance. Oh well. Maybe she’ll help me find another. Pendleton blankets are pretty expensive if you pay full retail price. Am I being cheap or frugal?

It’s four minutes ’til four in the morning and I’m home in bed. I guess this makes it an early one for a dance night but I was very tired so I came on home. It’s Phillip Swafford’s fault.

I always thought Phillip loved me, you know, like a brother (no homo). But today– well, yesterday now, he proved that I was mistaken by taking me on a trail run that nearly stopped my heart. The heat index was well above 100° and although the run was only three miles round-trip, there were three hills in there that made The Grim Reaper at Camp Pendleton look like a mole hill. Cruel, Phillip, very cruel.

So it’s his fault I’m about to go to sleep and the sun’s not even coming up. It’s just as well I reckon since I have a phone meeting with two other artists at 1pm tomorrow– I mean today.

I’ll like to tell you all about the miserable trail run (which, of course, I actually loved) but the truth is I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open. I’d better rap this up and save the trail story for tomorrow.

I sure do love you.

See y’all tomorrow.

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