Time Do Fly by Russ

What happened to last week? 

I didn't have any real excuse to have not written, I guess I was too busy playing with the kids.  Which is more important than boring the rest of you all with the minutae of my daily existance.

On the positive side, I finally got registered for a class.  What a collossal pain in the heiny that turned out to be.  I almost got to the point of explaining to them that I was 37 years old and not some wet behind the ears, happy to be there, 17 year old.  I was interested in being a student. 

Thankfully, after coming full circle, the very first guy I talked to finally gave me the secret handshake to register for classes.  Why he didn't do it initially, I can't say.  Why these people can't return a phone call, I can't say either.

Next up, paying for the class.  That HAS to be easier.  Right? 

Don't bet on it.

In other news.  I killed another squirrel.  Or, at least, I think I did.  All I know for sure, is that I broke the little bastard's back.  I was unable to get a second shot off due to the fact that it would have been faster to reload a colonial era musket than my pump airgun.  So I set Nala on the poor beast.

Wouldn't you know, the little bastard scurried across my backyard and up a tree using only its 'arms'.  I was impressed to a point.  Mostly, I felt bad.  While I hate those things with the fire of a thousand suns, I don't want anything to suffer.  Dollars to donuts, the bugger wasn't in a hammock drinking a pina colada when it died.  (Assuming it died.)