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Saturday has a feel. I work Saturdays. Nights. But Saturday mornings have a feel about them. They feel like nobody else is working that day. There is no update on The Drudge Report, for example. To speak of. It’s still Friday’s posts. There is no hussle of workers and students standing at the bus stops as I head to the dog park to give my dogs their daily walk.
When I get to work at 3pm, there is a feel. The place is empty. Nobody around except for the schlubs who are assigned the weekend shifts. The area around the place is filled with families and others who, inexplicably, feel an urge to travel to a place where they have to pay 4 dollars an hour at a parking meter to walk around with a bunch of other people, looking for diversion from their boring lives.
That’s fine.
At work, on weekends, I mostly drive from place to place taking video of shootings, house fires, idiot stranded windsurfers, weekend festivals, and other crap. Sometimes it is very boring and I get some reading done between shootings.
Then I go home.
When Monday arrives I am two days closer to my two days off, which are Thursday and Friday. My days off are much like my future retirement. I see people going to work, and I don’t have to.
Today it is very foggy on this Saturday morning, which is fine with me. Many folks are home still sleeping, or having their bacon and egg breakfasts.
I am having my solitary coffee, getting ready to go out for a couple of hours to Ft Funston. Dogs run around, and we come back.
It’s fine. Fine.
Started another book on WWII. Finished one on Cabeza del Vaca. Asked Taylor for his copy of Hitchhikers Guide to the Universe. Haven’t read that in years. For a change, I will try a fiction book.

Ah, well. Life is good.


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