Utter fatigue.

I’ve gotten through about 70 percent of my Con swag, and I am exhausted. I will just throw everything back into a bag and begin anew in the morning, most likely.


Tuesday morning I will be on my way to Vegas with the Cabrera family.

I have many reservations.

First, I am not a fan of quality time with blood.
Second, I am a bit leery of seeing my mother again. (See. I don’t even lump her in with “blood.”)
Third, I would much rather be working and making money than spending my paycheck in Vegas.
Fourth, the Vegas heat is going to make me wilt.

Ah, well. I am going, if only to prevent my brother from berating me for not spending enough time with the family. I can’t recall when exactly he became one of the many voices my conscience takes on, but I respond and obey accordingly. It’s terrible.

The trip will not be nearly as bad as I imagine it will be, of course. I have a tendency toward hyperbole.

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