I'm actually trying -- not very hard mind you -- to get some work cranked out between spurts of out-of-town company. It's a losing battle. I am only semi motivated as it is under the best of conditions.
Give me a deadline and I meet it, but I require a deadline -- real or imaginary -- to force me to the keyboard.
Rapid-fire visits from good friends is more than enough diversion to stop up the old creative juices.
I had friends from Florida here for six days last week. I was actually gone to a Nissan event for one night of their stay. It shortened my host responsibilities to four days. I made up for it during the time I was with them. They headed home last Friday, apparently none the worse for wear.
This Friday my buddy who used to be from Florida, but now lives in Tucson, is scheduled to arrive mid afternoon. If you are at least somewhat alert, you've probably already deduced that he is the guy in the "micro brew" photo. He has never visited me in South Carolina. We'll have a lot of ground to cover. He'll be here two nights before heading to Atlanta for some work-related class/meeting/boondoggle. He will then return the following weekend in case any stone of drinking opportunity was left unturned during his initial weekend.
Here we are with one of the wranglers at Eatons' Ranch in 2009. I remain convinced she liked me better.
He and I once spent two days and nights on a pub crawl along San Antonio's River Walk in search of its best margarita. Those were the good old days before he got hitched in his 50s and somehow produced a set of twins. But all of that is a story for another day. It's quite the tale.
The one good thing about back-to-back weeks of company is that the joint only needs touched up in the cleaning department. I've already washed the guest-bathroom towels, as well as the guest-bed sheets. I'll have to give the carpets a swipe with the vacuum, but that'll take five minutes.
I guess I'll wipe down the guest bathroom as well. Already looks pretty good from a distance, though.
I've restocked the fridge and the bar.
I get more excited about out-of-town visitors -- or visitors of any stripe, really -- than my cat does. She spent the five days of last week's company curled up under my bed. I doubt she'll be much more enthusiastic about someone else being here this weekend. Neither of us does cartwheels over change.