I’ve not written in a while. I could blame the heat and the sweat and the fatigue it brings to the body and mind, but if I wanted to bitch about summer I wouldn’t have been stuck for the words to write. Truth is I’ve barely crossed the door but for work, supplies or cat food or litter.
The money’s not short, in fact it’s growing as we speak, but all my wealth might as well be smoke and air because the big day is coming and it’s time for the debts to be paid . Life’s been a non-stop rollercoaster of books, burned disks and getting to bed early for the lack of other choice. But like the summer, I could have been grousing about this for weeks, so I’ll drop the subject.
Five weeks to go and all the dominos are starting fall faster. The photographer will be paid in the next few days, the meals and hall in the next few weeks, and then the party starts. The stag and hen nights are sorted too; my best men have arranged a sixteen man limo to take us to Jongleurs on the 19th August while Michelle and Co will be learning to pole dance on a date I can never remember.
Well I guess that’s it for now, all I didn’t have to say is said and this typing wore me out. Besides I’m a busy man; books to read, TV to watch, litter trays to change and memories of life without debts to dwell on.
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