Saturday Is Fleeting.

My favorite day of the week is always over in the blink of an eye, and I never accomplish everything I set out to. It's already nearly four, and by my scientific calculations I've accomplished 2 loads of laundry, some kitchen cleaning or as they'd say around the lab - the square root of fuck all. Alright, so I made my bed too. Dr. Covey, I await my mention in the foreward of your next edition.

The best laid plans and the best of intentions do not a productive Saturday make. I've looked forward to my Taz-esque whirlwind of task-ticking all week, and yet I still found the time today to play Scarface for three hours. But there's plenty of time left, and I've learned how to sell virtual cocaine with the best of them. Not like it's going to get dark in an hour. Oh, actually yes it will.

It's true that if you fail to plan, you plan to fail. But unfortunately it's also true that if you make a great plan that doen't mean you won't eat three dill pickles and drink a pot of coffee while watching home video of your 24th birthday party. Get back in the game, Pye. There are toilets to scrub around here.