Late at night on the automated check in machine, working yet again an evening at my library, I conjured, in my mind, an astounding tale of the shortcomings of my co-workers. And maybe you really would like to hear it. But you'd best go fishing in the waters of the great river of the history of clerkmanifesto. There are many accounts like that. And admittedly tonight I might have written another. But the end of the work night came so suddenly upon me, and I was busy, and a lovely fellow who rarely works at the library anymore was working just for the night, and wanted to watch The World Series, and talk about baseball.
So it all slipped away from me.
And now I am home.
I talked with my absolutely lovely wife.
I had a pecan whiskey.
I sat down to write.
And everything is wonderful.
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