Another dollar

I go back to the salt mines on Monday. Today was my last day of unemployed freedom. I wish I could say I spent it productively, but I fear all I did was the usual trouble-mongering, more opening of mouth and inserting of foot, at which I'm so talented. I should get paid for doing that! I bet I could set records.

I should have been drinking tea and reading and staying out of other people's way. Will I never learn?

So bid me a good journey, readers. And hide rope, sharp objects, and weapons that shoot bullets. I assure you I shall leave deeply etched gouges as they drag me to the doors by 8 a.m.