Mar. 21st, 2002

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I recall an episode of The X Files from a couple of seasons ago whose story turned on the idea of a secret government experiment, back in the Vietnam era, to create soldiers who needed no sleep. Nearly a generation later, the result was a small cadre of veterans who literally hadn't slept in decades, and strange things started to happen, requiring the talents of Mulder and Scully.

Things are not as strange around here as yet, but they seem to be getting there. Ming has taken to waking me each morning around 4:30, like some sort of strange, Alpo-powered timepiece. By the time he's had his turn outside, and Sasha has had her turn outside (never together... that's the secret), I am fully awake. I then go-go-go until about midnight, when I collapse into bed. (Of course, last night, I had an excuse: playing with my wireless Linux laptop upstairs, away from the office.)

At any rate, today, I was surprised to find that today is Thursday, and that I really needed to have been working on the editing job yesterday and most of today. Fortunately, the deadline is 4 pm Central Time tomorrow (instead of something heartless, like 9 am), which gives me until 3 pm my time to finish the job. I've just completed the first half of the work, after nearly 4 hours of editing.

I was not able to get out of the store today, as Galina decided to go down to Farmington, to the Sam's Club there, to buy necessary victuals and drinks for our new cooler. While what she brought back was an interesting enough variety of drinks, they look kind of puny sitting there all by themselves in this huge box that's more suitable for, say, a sumo exhibition than to store bottles of beverages.

* * *
Galina is a habitual candle-burner and I've been warning her for years that the terms "safe" and "burning candle" belong no closer than 50 miles of one another. Burning candles must be supervised. Burning candles must not be left unattended. Burning candles represent a lot of potential work for a fire company and insurance agents. (Don't get me wrong... I love nothing more than candlelight to create atmosphere for a romantic dinner, or similar activity. But there is always a little part of me that will not stop paying attention to a burning candle, even as I whisper sweet nothings in her ear...)

Anyway, my warnings have, in the past, elicited a "stop being such a worry-wart" reaction (and will doubtless do so again in the future, once the immediate shock wears off). Last night, however, a burning candle in our bedroom began to exhibit ambition. At the time, I was in my office and Galina was asleep. Somehow, Galina was awakened (I like to think it was Sasha... it's the romantic in me...) and she ended up singeing her hair before the combustion process was smothered. By that time, I was in the room and spent little time opening a window and flinging the foul thing outside.

Today, the bedroom still stinks to high heaven of smoke.

We were just lucky, I guess...

* * *
Tomorrow, the county assessor comes to inventory the store. In Colorado, it turns out, businesses like mine pay an additional tax on personal property used in the business. It's not a huge sum, but it is a pain in the butt. I am not looking forward to this meeting, but there's not a heck of a lot I can do about it, except get a good night's sleep.

Cheers...

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