Ain’t got no picture postcards, ain’t got no souvenirs – my baby, she don’t know me when I’m thinking bout those years

Good morning. Er, afternoon. I’ve been up since 4:57, three minutes before my alarm went off. I don’t know why my body and mind don’t trust the alarm clock that I’ve had work flawlessly for 5 years. I’m either up a couple of hours early and sleep lightly, up minutes before, or the alarm clock scares the hell out of me when it goes off.

Weird.

Anyways, I had to open the shop this morning. As I’m getting the paperwork done and counting the cash, car pulls up, and the driver comes to the door. Pulls on it, and stares inside. I quietly knock on the window and point to the sign. He looks at it, and looks at me, confused. I open the door and say we don’t open for a half hour. He asks if he can pay at the pump. I shake my head and say no. He stares at me. I say we open in a half hour, smile, close, and lock the door. He sat in the parking lot until we were open.

Back home now. Pork bites in the oven, and wrestling to watch when Crystal is done kicking ass in Skyrim. It’s gonna be a relaxing do nothing day. Tomorrow; chores, and probably climbing up on a roof to clean the stove pipe.

And we’ll celebrate my mother’s birthday tomorrow!