"To take upon us the mystery of things"—what King Lear so wistfully says for himself and for Cordelia.

I don't have much to say.
Here:

- Learned that a co-worker, Jeff in the Cafe, has written a rather lengthy and extensive Sci-fi novel and is having it published soon. I sort of drowned in my own self pity there during our hour together at lunch. Oh yeah, he's 18, fresh out of High School. I asked him where he found the time to write it: "I don't know. I can't sleep sometimes, and I thought it'd be cool to write a novel." Congrats Jeff for the reality check.

- Camella is sick. She's getting better but for some reason it bothers me when she's sick. I wish I could bring her soup or something, but I have built a reputation of being the guy to not bring soup, so the idea is moot.

-Someone in Philadelphia is angry with me, and I don't care.

- The show with The Tah-Dah's is coming up quick (tomorrow). Come if you read this. This means you all from Arlington to Dallas. You get to see the full band, all five of us now. Brian and I joke about having some gospel back up singers, but under the joking facade I did a mental check to see if I knew any gospel singers. I've got plans, baby.

I hope the weekend finds you well. And those afternoons you spend flipping through cable channels you should be thinking of something else. Go solve a problem or something.