The call came late in the after­noon. I soaked in the sun’s warm­ing rays and their glow­ing warm­ing glow, lazing in my ham­mock on the porch. My cell’s tit­ter­ing chirps almost went unnoticed.

“John! Are you there? Oh my good­ness, John, if you’re—” Some gar­bling static cut his pleas, but the voice sounded familiar.

“Greg?” I asked, lift­ing my sunglasses.

“Come in, John! Do you copy?”

I rubbed my eyes. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“My thesis, John, it’s—” A horrid crunch­ing of metal against metal came from the ear­piece. “I don’t know what hap­pened, but it’s out of con­trol! I may not survive!!”

Scratch­ing myself, I sighed. “Well …… do you …… want me to write some­thing? For Monday?”

“John, tell my family I’m—”

Con­nec­tion lost.

So since Greg appar­ently can’t handle it—”it” being some unde­fined entity which is prob­a­bly really easy to handle, I mean come on—I’m stuck doing his job. The nerve! Hasn’t answered one of my calls. Not a one. Well I hope he drops dead. Yeah, I said it!

Seri­ously, though, dude’s got press­ing work to do. A sit­u­a­tion applic­a­ble to all of us, I am sure! You know what always helps me in these sit­u­a­tions, though? An X-Treem new per­spec­tive, that’s what:

And finally, just so I can rob this post of any coher­ence it might ever hope to achieve, some sketch­ings com­pletely unre­lated to busy work sched­ules or food. What began as a legit­i­mate exer­cise quickly devolved into fill­ing space for its own sake. That’ll happen some­times, but do your best not to suc­cumb! Do as I say, etc. etc.

Have a peace­ful and/or spir­i­tu­ally ful­fill­ing Monday evening, if at all pos­si­ble. Come back tomor­row for more images that might even make you laugh.