Sunday evening, no rain is falling

Mmmm... the lingering moments between weekend and weekday. Dusk. Love that word. Such a musky sexy sound to it. On Sundays it heralds the end of pretending. Saturday mornings whisper of lazing around and enjoying the sun indefinitely, but its merely a subconsciously yearned for delusion, steadily dispelled by Sunday evenings. Don't have an issue with Monday per se, just its position in the scheme of things that well, stinks really. 

Interesting how learning curves never quit. Just when you're comfortable having figured out one level of crazy situations, it escalates and you find yourself drowning again. Kinda exhilarating, at least its a sure thing that general chaos awaits at pretty much every step. Also, thank goodness for the wise old owls that have been there before, renewed respect for tribal systems.