Lord, 25 weeks! What are they doing under that attractive sheet of plastic? I mean, they're one week away from having their stuff up for half a year. That's really quite a long time. And I've been documenting it the entire time. That just shows you how much free time I have. I'll tell you, though, I have been working the last two weeks. And it continues next week. I take notes for these volleyball people. Let me rephrase: I take meeting notes for these regional volleyball committees. They have meetings only so often, but it just so happens that they're getting together three weeks in a row. They're pretty serious about volleyball, but they need a ref, somebody to move them along. It's like when I play poker. I have to keep track of stuff because everybody else is so baked. I'm not, so I've gotta tell those poor stoners whose turn it is and what the bet is. Otherwise, hands last forever. That's the problem with the volleyball people, too - except nobody's baked. They need somebody to tell them they're at an impasse and that they should move on. I'm just the note-taker, so it's not my place. But last night, the meeting lasted three hours and could have gone much, much longer. Thank God they had wine. Anyhow, everybody's quite nice and passionate about volleyball. They just have problems agreeing on things. That's when somebody needs to step in and say, "Hey, since we can't agree and it's not vital that we do, let's move on." That didn't happen last night. None of this has anything to do with the Security House, but I just wanted to stress that my time isn't completely my own right now. Three hours a week is dedicated to writing down what volleyball people say.
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