trapped in the time equivalent of quicksand

I’m not quite sure what’s happening today but the clock refuses to advance. I just finished a call that lasted 54 minutes by my phones reckoning but I swear it was three hours. and now I’m waiting for another call to start and I think I’ve looked at the time a dozen times with no change. The dogs won’t shut up as the wind keeps blowing sticks-n-things against the house and my phone is buzzing with texts from my friends looking to grab a beer before the game tonight.

This has all mixed together to leave me feeling ill at ease and I’m not really sure if that’s a real thing or if I spelled slash used it correctly. Things just don’t feel quite right. Anyway, If this were a Saturday I might consider attempting a quick reset nap but this next call is all about me. Roughly sixty minutes of “the Tom Show” and I need to saddle up and get ready to ride. If my delivery sucks these things can break bad in a hurry.

I need to keep the attention of a room full of people with the sound of my voice as interpreted by a speakerphone. And unlike Charlie Townsend the Angels on the other end of the phone don’t work for me. I am here to shake up their world just a bit. The last time we all spoke I had some baby crying cued up on the YouTube and used it more than once. This time I have crickets and sitcom laugh track ready to go. Should be fun.

T minus two minutes (I wonder what the hell that stands for?) and I find myself wondering where we are going to eat tomorrow night when we head down to art school parents weekend. I get to meet some of this kids friends as well so at the very least the daughter daddy looks should be entertaining.
As in “be less YOU Dad.” That never really works out…

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