Hey Jakey,

Not a lot to do today here at work, except keep constant vigil over the CNN website, watching Rita moving in closer and closer. She's down to a Category 3, so that's good news. Tivoli looks like it will be spared, so that's great news.

I talked to your Nana and Papa this morning, and they seem to be in pretty good spirits, considering the close quarters in their little motel room. They ate breakfast this morning at a nearby Cracker Barrel, and Nana, true to form, found a nearby Wal-Mart and came away with bags of ice and lots of junk food. Your Papa said that their two dogs are behaving themselves, treating the entire situation like a welcome adventure. I asked him how Nana's cousin's two dogs were behaving; obviously Vonda was nearby, cuz all he said was, "Yeah!" Not a good sign. Nana calls them the dogs from hell.

Apparently everyone in the motel is a Rita evacuee. Your grandpa is making friends right and left, I'm sure he's already invited half of Waco's population back to Tivoli for a cold one after all this is over.

Sparse crew here in the office today, so I can roam the Web and blog in peace.

Over drinks after the taping yesterday afternoon, C and I discussed the 9-5, five-day-a-week grind.

I've only ever worked that traditional schedule for the first year that I toiled as a designer in Carson. Prior to that, my seven years at Metro consisted of a four-day work week, with Sundays, Mondays and Tuesdays off. As editor here for the past four years, I had Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays off, working half a day on Tuesday. Ahhhh, how could I have ever bitched about that?

So here I am, 9-to-5'ing it, and watching my year slip away like so much floodwater over a broken levee. Every work day is spent trying to make it to 5pm, every work week is spent trying to make it to Friday. Before you know it, the week is gone, and not a meaningful moment to remember. The weekend is spent resting up from the previous week and trying to re-connect with you. All of a sudden, it's Sunday night, and the whole asinine cycle of hurry-up-Friday begins again.

Man, can I bitch and moan or what? At least I'm not stuck in traffic three miles outside of Houston right now, with no gas and no air conditioning. Gah, can you imagine?

Love you, and check in with you later.