Crashbox

This room is dark and the morning is slow. It is sleeting outside and I would love to write some poetry but I am supposedly at work. Then too, whenever there is time for poetry the Muse leaves me. Like when you are supposed to be doing homework and you have this great idea you want to draw, but you have to focus---and after school you forget all about the picture. Still, it is sleepy today and so am I. Hopefully there is enough to do to keep me here all day, but after two weeks work already fails to hold my interest. I've climbed under enough cars and cleaned out enough barns to tide me over for a few years at least. Yesterday was a long day, but by the end of it I had a working truck again and the Volvo was out of the ditch, so it was a good day. Now if I want a paycheck, I better go find something to do...