Well, this is interesting. I mean, interesting in the fact that of course there are underwater aliens! Everyone knows that! I doubt a bunch of men in close quarters in a Russian submarine would ever hallucinate after a while. And who knew that Russian subs had windows? Let's see the government try and write these perfectly legitimate sightings off as undersea swamp gas, or experimental ocean balloons, eh?

Anyway, I'm bouncing back today (finally.) Got a run in this morning and feeling much better, thank you very much. And thanks for hanging in there with me, all 27 of you, my dedicated readers, even though most days I just feel like writing: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

Did you know there's meaning behind all that filler? I looked it up. Check out the translation:

Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure?

Just seems to describe writers (and runners) everywhere, that boring old nonsense filler. Who knew?

The Ramona job was finished late yesterday and I can put that one behind me for a while, until the wind blows it over and I have to return for repairs. The wind! Customers are always concerned about the wind. Sometimes I have to show them the engineering tables where it specifically says the 70 mph and 90 mph wind ratings. (I build them to 90 mph.) People always say, without exception, "Oh, no. The gusts get very strong up here." And who am I to argue? I always remind them, "90 mph is a Category 1 hurricane. If you get 90 mph winds in your backyard, you're gonna have bigger problems than your little patio cover blowing away." Makes people think.

But yesterday, she pushed me on it. "Is there a guarantee? I heard there was a guarantee. If the wind damages it are you going to come out and fix it?" At which point I scrutinized the tiny muscles in her face and tried to read her subtle body language to ascertain if she was joking or not. I couldn't tell. She got me. So I said, "When it happens, call me."

I've never had to fix one for that problem before, but now I know I just asked for it.

Meh. That's life. I try not to dwell, and preoccupy myself with undersea humanoids in silvery suits. They're more reliable than the weather.


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