I ended up going to sleep last night somewhere around 7:30, so waking up this morning wasn't too difficult. It was really cool because when I looked out the hatch, the place was so eat up with fog, I couldn't even see the end of the dock. Oh, and thankfully, it wasn't raining anymore. When I got out of the shower, there were a good many people hanging out in front of the dock store, so I figured I'd join in. I met Mark, his wife Patty, and their dog Swab. Swab is pretty fitting, seeing as how he's the biggest white poofball I've ever seen. They live aboard a very nice Catalina 400. I think they're from up around Nashville, & have a daughter in school up there that just turned 21. Mr. Freeman and Bob were there too, and Bob was giving Swab hell. The boat-dog politics around this place are pretty fascinating, and it appears that many cups of coffee are consumed in the mornings around here while observing all of their activities. I also met Tony, who lives with his wife around the corner. After an hour or two, I figured it was about time to get dressed and start trying to do something productive.

After I got dressed, I saw Tony walking around with a fishing pole, and he said he was getting ready to head out fishing. He invited me, and I reluctantly had to pass, considering I've yet to get a fishing pole, or license. I had to go to Office Depot in Foley to get something for the computer anyway, so while I was there I ran over to the Wal-Mart and picked up a $20 job that looked like it'd do the trick. I also grabbed a rattle-trap, because everybody knows you can always catch something on a rattle-trap. So, when I got back I was pretty anxious to catch some dinner before I had to go speak with the manager of Live Bait at 4.

Fish 1, Me 0
I tried for 45 minutes or so, and was about ready to throw in the towel. I always have had dad's patience. I ended up having a little help deciding to quit though, because on my last cast the line all twisted up and got in this great big knot. Perfect stopping point, I reckon. There's always tomorrow...maybe the fish are about like everything else and don't do anything until Wednesday. I just can't imagine that they wouldn't want a rattle-trap. Seriously...why not?

Ok, so I rode over to Live Bait to do this whole 'applying for a job' thing. They told me the manager had already left, and I would need to come back tomorrow. For the slow ones in the bunch, that'd be Wednesday. So, although I was a little disappointed, I decided to ride back over to my marina and grab some chowder from The Back Porch. I've come to enjoy this chowder quite a bit. So much, in fact that the employees are beginning to treat me like a regular. So, when the manager brought me my usual, I asked him if he'd want to hire somebody like me. He tossed me an application and told me to come back tomorrow (Wednesday) to meet with him. In all fairness, I told him about my job interview in the morning with the Florabama and he told me just to stop by around three. Whoo Hoo! It really looks like this is a pretty good possibility, and honestly, I couldn't ask for a better gig, considering that the resturant is closer to my boat than the showers are. Man that'd be nice not to have to drive at all to get to work. Anyway, we'll see what happens.

So, if you've been keeping track, tomorrow I have an interview at the Florabama at 11, I have to wait for the cable guy from 1 to 5, an interview with The Back Porch around 3, and a visit with the manager of Live Bait around 4. Wow...what am I going to wear? (certainly not a question I normally stress over, but considering I'm about 2 days overdue on laundry, and the clothes that I haven't yet worn are completely damp, it was time to take care of the inevitable.) And what better way to pass the time while doing laundry than a good book? I picked up The Summons by John Grisham while I was getting detergent. I'm about 175 pages into it already, and I'm pretty impressed so far, so I'm going to stop talking to ya'll, & finish reading something from somebody who can actually write. Wish me luck tomorrow. Later.