Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap . . .


Hello loyal (3-4) readers. I'm sad to report that I have had a tragedy in my life. It seems the pressures and tribulations of working for my boss have forced her full-time assistant (not me--I'm a "paralegal") into the hospital. Yes. I'm being literal. More significantly (to me, anyway), said assistant also quit on Friday.

For those of you in the know, the rest of this entry may be unnecessary, but I cling to the hope that there are people out there who are A) not fully acquainted with the details of my life; and B) reading this 'blog. I cling and I cling, and Rose tells me, "Don't let go, Jack! Never let go!", and I reply "My name's not Jack," as my icy grip perilously weakens moment by moment.

Anyway. My heart will go on. Just ignore it.

Outside "the know"? Then know this: No new 'blog entries for a while, probably. I will be pulling double duty (which, for Mona, pretty much means quadruple duty) until we can find and train a new assistant for her. This, added to the rapidly accelerating rehearsal process for A Lie of the Mind, equals no time for extra craft work.

I can only hope that Literature can withstand my absence for however long it takes to find a new sucker, er . . . SKILLED OFFICE ADMINISTRATOR.
 
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