Comin' Home

There has been little "journaling" as of late, and I wish I could remedy that. I could, of course, provide the

old excuse, "I haven't had the time," and that might be somewhat aimed in the direction of the truth yet somewhat not. Its a difficult shot. Like a yokel stumbling and feverish on his dirt crusted property, bradishing a buck-shot rifle, firing random shots in the air only to have them come crashing down as agrigant rain.

The thought, however, arises that there is no possible way to postulate when I will be able to construct a

fully fleshed out "post", but I'm trying; I think that accounts for something. Right? Even if I'm really not. Regardless, this is what I post for now.

There are only two people (other than me, obviously) who know about this journal, and one of their name's

is Jenna Elizabeth (with a 'z', right?) Roberts, and I'm pretty comfortable with that. Perhaps later I'll hang a sign in the window: "Open for business, mind the cockroaches and empty water bottles." We'll see though.

Man, I'm tired.