It's 4:30am. I'll leave at about 5.
Poor Tom, guess he's stuck with me in the mornings. We get along fine; he runs the world and I stay out of his way and whine about that liquid mud concoction he calls "coffee." Whee! A cup of THAT'll get you ARRESTED!
Tea's brewed; chicken's fried. All I have to do is dress, grab my bags and scoot.
I didn't sleep well last night. I was overstimulated from my visit to the station yesterday. I'm worried about my unfinished business. I'm into solving problems, not letting them fester.
I'm looking forward to collecting duck eggs again. Need to remember to pack an egg carton this morning. The hotter it gets, the less they'll lay, you know.
I'll leave the station around six thirty for that, and come back.
I have eastern time long distance calls to make this morning. Seven our time is nine, theirs. I should be ok.
I also have a local professor I need to call.
I need to contact Women's Voices at the station; I'm writing stuff that they can use, in longer form than I'll need for the news.
My legs hurt and I know why. Gym shoes are hot. I take them off and walk barefoot on that hard concrete too much. I need better shoes, with more air circulation, but with padded soles and arch supports. Besides, it's dangerous up there, with all the demolition and reconstruction. I need shoes.
Laura says she has some for me. I hope she brings them soon.
Well, it's twenty 'til. Best get my butt in gear and get out of here. I want to get as much done as I can before everybody else arrives and we have to fight over computers & studio space.
I have an 11 o'clock appointment at Frontier today. If I forget, I'll kick myself!
Oh, yeah: I'm going to Frontier! But I'm still packing that chicken, anyway!
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