It is about 9:30 or so on a Monday morning and I am dragging. My beautiful daughter was in need of attention throughout the early morning hours so I am low on sleep. I’d grab some coffee, but sometimes the caffeine does more harm than good. No point in being awake if I am not able to work.
The last week or so has been exceptionally busy for me. I have been working on a number of different proposals that are outside of what we normally do. It is fun because it allows me to step out of the box as well as they offer greater rewards. It is not just that I receive a larger commission, but there is something very nice in being able to really use my mind.
I have been doing this long enough that I do not have to worry if my brain has slipped into neutral, so ordinary proposals are easy.
But these babies are something else. It is like hunting big game, or trying to catch a marlin. They take some more thought and the ability to withstand a little punishment. I am strapped into the fighting chair and I am not letting go, you can pull my arms out of their sockets, but I am not letting go.
Not that I want that to happen. Because if it did what would I do, how would I write, eat or drive. So I cannot allow that to happen which is why I just might have to say the hell with the fishing rod and shoot the fucking fish. Although there is a problem there, I don’t own a gun, I know a guy who cooks with his gun, but the gun slinging chef probably wouldn’t loan me his pistol.
So maybe I’ll grab a spear and poke the freaking fish in the eye. For certain when I eat it I am not going to leave the eyes on. It weirds me out, how can you eat something that is staring back at you.
BTW, I should add that me dear friends the PETA hit squad have come looking for me twice. Thus far I have been able to fight them off. Thanks for fabulous intelligence I knew that they were coming and prepared for them. I dressed like a bad version of Huggy Bear, the ’70s era pimp.
When they saw me all decked out in my cheap fur coat they attacked me like rabid animals. The big problem was that the did so down at the meat lockers at the dock. When the first guy came at me I belted him in the mouth with a frozen Porterhouse. The next guy took a Pot Roast to the gut and I chased the lone woman down the street with some baby back ribs.
Now, where was I? Ah yes, I was talking about the proposals I am working on. I’d write more about them but I wasted too much time on this bit and need to focus on my business. Back later.