...If I had time to actually write something; but I pretty much don't. I'm working an upside-down early-morning shift that just doesn't jibe with my own personal biorhythms, let alone the schedule of What Needs Done At Home.
Which why it is nice that Tam's back from vacation -- she helps look after the cats and kitchen, a huge time-saver.
It would also be nice to sit down all the principals in IMPD's Canine Officer David Brisard blood draw mess and get to the bottom of who did what, how; there's reason to think the test results could have been admissible. It'd be nice to think nobody involved in a fatal accident with a 0.19 BAC could get away with it, even if he did have a shiny, shiny badge. 'Course, it would be nice to think the Prosecutor's office still had a felony case even without it, too, but I am not so sure Mr. Brizzi sees it that way.
It would be nice to take time to write more fiction, too. I usually have that for lunch (I used to read at lunch; one day it just hit me I could just as easily spend the time on output as input), which for some reason I have not been taking this week: it's that topsy-turvy schedule, again. I have a little vignette all mapped out, or mostly. Need to turn the thoughts into words!
Speaking of time, it's time I was gittin'. More later, maybe.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago