Tom is Away

spoiled by fall-like weather, struggling today.

also, the guy who tried to steal my wife on the dance floor is much less of a realistic threat than John LeClair, I think.

5 book sales made at the wedding reception– good thing I went.

On the way to mom’s wedding.

school starts in two days. not prepared.

if the cookie is shaped like an apple, does it count as a fruit?

headed to Bensalem to rehearse walking next to my mom.

one more signing scheduled: 10/16 from 4-7 at Books-A-Million in the Cherry Hill Mall

reaching out, casting a wide net. resisting pay cuts.

new unrealistic goal: finish writing 3 books in next two years (counting the wrestling book).

one way to throw yourself off the 100 book/1 year pace is to read an 827 page book. nearly done “Underworld” by Don DeLillo

the last few fall-like days have me craving chili or soup or giant baked potatoes or something.

hustling.

that may be the angriest post-Phillies crowd I’ve ever seen.

headed to the phils tonight, looking forward to excessive booing of umpires.

deep into job hunting, I now realize I have absolutely no idea how to effectively search for a job.

ripping up a fence. hoping it’s easier than it sounds.

luggag received. outrage at courier dissipates when it’s revealed that he’s a barely mobile, half-dead old man, who is also either courier-ing a dying woman, or is carting his half-dead wife around with him on this job that, presumably, he’s doing because he had all of his savings stolen by unscrupulous investment scumbags (i’m guessing on the last part).

now, out to dinner with mom.

hey, luggage courier– “after lunch” definitely does not mean “before dinner.”

Barrelhouse updated