This may be a sparse week for blogging, guys. I (we) have over 10K more tests to make this week and we're running low on time, so something's gotta give, and odds are it's going to be my morning 60-minute Internet ritual I have instead of coffee. Working another full-time job cuts into your free time, ya know? I'm only monkeying around with this now because my lovely bride is in the shower and I have a minute. I haven't returned a single e-mail since Thursday, I don't think.

Recovery-wise I'm doing well, though we completely missed church today because I insisted on making drug test kits because we're so behind. I think we put in at least a nine-hour day today. Poor Toni's exhausted, and I am, too. We oughta be - it's pushing 4 AM. In theory she has aerobics in about four hours, but there's absolutely no way in hell I could go, so I certainly don't expect her to go. I hope she doesn't feel to guilty about skipping a day. I don't have to be at work until noon, so I'm slightly better off. My schedule varies throughout the week (12-6 or 3-11 or 11-7 thereabouts), but the latest I ever have to stay is midnight, which seems early after coming home at 4 AM from the bar.

I am gonna call my recovery brothers tomorrow. I didn't want to bug 'em on Easter, and I've been fine for quite a while. Nothing new to report, which I'm delighted about. I'm also continuing to forget things, too, which is nice. I was trying to calculate how long it has taken me to "get over" people in the past and it was pretty different with everybody, and that's an incredibly subjective thing to try to classify, too. I think you have some permanent memories with everybody that you never, ever shake your entire life, but I think with enough hard work, faith and healing a lot of the things you don't really want to remember for whatever reason eventually become like a dream you can't quite remember anymore. I have some experience with that already - I hope it continues.

OK - my baby's out of the shower, and I don't want to keep her up any longer than necessary.

Oh - and Dad's birthday was Saturday. He's 104 and thinks he's 25. Ha - he's only 73, but I'm not lying about the 25 part. He still shoots like (and had the blood pressure of) a 25-year old, and if he makes it to 104 I won't be the least bit surprised. We love you, Dad. Happy (late) birthday!

'night, guys.

418, cause I'm counting for Monday.