Wednesday, May 25, 2005

I have pushed my frame too far this time

Alas! Alack! I am a broken fellow. The only thing keeping me alive is yesterday's unexpected triumph in the field of improvisational soundproofing.

Dear reader, I still have my health. But having taken delivery of my "Skellington" books, I have been forced to package them up for my countrymen (and some Australians). One should never complain about ones own popularity, but I think envelopes and I are going to have a rest from one another for a while after I go to the post office tomorrow morning. Things aren't working out.

PLUS! I have been doing book personalisations. This is a fun job most of the time, except when I have to do forty in a day. By the end of that day I am an unrecognisable cripple, bent over like a young cypress in a gale. In fact, that's what I look like now!

When you are me, this is how things have to be. When there is a large job to do, I have to do it all at once, because until I do, it is like I'm sharing my house with a large, angry bear. I can hear my ears ringing with the pressure of it all!

Also I got crazy with some gravel in the back yard. This is a man's job, where you hope a doe-eyed sweetie-pie will at some point bring you a foaming mug of large (or heavy, if you like heavy). But no large for me. Or heavy!

Join me in wishing for better days, and that I might be a better man. The gravel spread true, but the man is having involuntary spasms all over.

4 comments:

Richard said...

Man oh man, when it rains it doth pour. I had to package up a truckload of shirts and stuff myself yesterday. How the heck did our lives get this way?

I kind of like it.

Nate said...

Your Herculean efforts will no doubt be appreciated the world over, though.

Doctor Sinister said...

Or you'll be abused for not having the books sent-out on thirty-minute delivery. 'Par Avion' is not French for Domino's.

Roman said...

When my personalized books arrives on these shores like the Mayflower once did, I'll appreciate it all the more, knowing that I'm not the only one who's hard labor in the yard goes unrewarded by the attentions of a sweet lady.