A day in the rife

9 AM, Mike shows up to plug the cheese holes in our house where mice, chipmunks, and squirrels (in order of size) enter, make frenzy, sometimes die (i.e., stink of mortem). I prep for tomorrow's day-long "consultant in residence" with an international child development agency. My alcoholic best friend calls. He's bored. He's drunk. It's 11:30 a.m. and he's been puking for three days. I don't have an answer. At 1:45 PM, I don my headset and phone in to the webinar service. At 2 PM I begin a talk on donor newsletters to a few dozen organizations across the US and Canada. At 2:45 PM I break for questions. There are none. What?!? Questions usually fill 15 minutes at this point. Without questions, suddenly my show's too short!?! I throw out the anchor. I slow my PowerPoint presentation to a crawl. I start telling any story I can think of that's even faintly germane. At lichen speed. I figure if I can get to 3:20 PM then I've given good weight. I do. Questions pour in. I love my audience!