Hello friends and neighbors. I hope I didn’t alarm anyone by skipping yesterday. Apparently not, because not a single one of my devoted followers reached out to see if I was dead in a ditch. Although to be fair, my nearest and dearest knew what I was doing and where I was. Anyway, I’m fine, it just boils down to me being a procrastinator extraordinaire and didn’t bother getting anything put down before I began my journey halfway across the state. Then after dinner and maybe some two-for-one beers, I no longer felt the supreme drive to write. So, since I’m writing today, in my rules in Amy Land, I still say this counts and it’s not cheating. I’m just a day late. And I have addressed my problem head-on. But the “dead in a ditch” phrase reminds me of when I worked for the fencing outfit and I would call all the crew leaders at 2:00 on the nose (unless I was asshole deep in alligators, but typically things had mellowed by that point in the day). The purpose of the call was to make sure they were on schedule either to finish or they would be on overtime to finish or needed an extra day (that was very bad and I hated to hear those words). Also, just to make sure they hadn’t died from heat exhaustion, rattlesnake…