October 1st, 2007

(no subject)

Last week rocked. Now what am I going to do *this* week?

I want to avoid the problem I sometimes have of generating a meticulous, detailed plan, in which I use up all the energy I would have used to actually *execute* a lesser, flawed plan and accomplish nothing.

I have a presentation to give on Wednesday, and a date on Sunday. Anything else is gravy. Go.

Aliens In Long Beach

On my way to the coffeehouse, I was confronted with an angry, aggressive toy poodle, all roughly six pounds of him, who postured on the sidewalk, and when I was undismayed, walked up and sneezed with great deliberation on my ankle.

There *must* be aliens in Long Beach, who breathe through their ankles, for a breed of guard dog to be developed to use such sophisticated germ warfare on them.

And the coffeehouse doesn't open 'til 11am. Obviously more aliens; if the coffeehouses in Pedro didn't open at 6am, they'd have people breaking in the windows to help themselves by 8.