Early to bed...

...to roll out at 0500 tomorrow to drive out into the middle of the damn desert for work. At the moment, any possible "fun" is obscured by a fear that I'll do something truly stupid and prove to the assembled multitude that I'm as big a horse's ass as I'm coming to feel I am.

The hits just keep on coming, Jim. I finally talked to one of the people I've been trying to reach for well over a week. He informed me that his company has cut its budgets, and won't be hiring any more freelance writers. This was bad enough, but I have spent a not inconsiderable amount of time doing prep work on some stories -- basic research, lining up contacts -- they said they wanted but now will not buy.

This is the same outfit that wanted the rush-rush story a couple of weeks ago, and hasn't gotten back to me with the information I need to bill them. So until I can reach that particular editor, I have to wonder if they'll pay for that story....

I did get one good call and was able to line up something that might make my friend lowandslow jealous as hell. Don't tell him I won't be making much money from it....

And I also got a call from a sweet friend. Her personal news was so good that it distracted me from my own miserable situation. I was, and am, delighted for her. And she soothed me with one of the best tonics of all, a bout of uncontrolled laughter. I love to listen to people laugh, even if, alas, it is over a 3000-mile-long wire.

I wish I could laugh.

Hell, I wish I could come up with some personal news that would delight people, me included.

But to do it now, I'd have to lie, and I don't lie very well. Apparently, I don't do anything any too damn well these days.

Be that as it may. O'-dark-thirty will come quickly enough, and I don't even do well with sleep. Better go see if I can get a head start on it.