A Sleepy Monk

I'm reasonably certain that monks stayed up later than this (2:00AM) or got awakened for prayers and chanting at or around 3:00AM, but I'm not going to those extremes. At least not yet. The only reason I'm still up past my bedtime (usually midnight or an hour earlier) is that the girls are still out and I want to be certain they make it home alright. This is, after all, the weekend of the green. St. Patty's Day is upon us, even though some of us look upon it with heavy hearts rather than joyous cheerfulness.

Today marks the anniversary of the passing of the founder of our little troop of merry Klingons and the conference that brought people far and wide to enjoy his brand of fun. So, if you are out tomorrow and feeling a bit Klingon in your drinking, raise a stein to Joe Manning, otherwise known as Thought-Admiral Klaad.

Ah! The girls are home. Then, I'll make this a short entry. Monk-fever is getting a stronger hold upon me. It'll go that way for a few days, then level off, like it usually does, unless the motivational recordings I'm listening to now push it beck into my purview. We shall see. I do know this much. I'm more energized about the project that I would normally be. This bodes very well for its success. Very well, indeed.