I have thirty-two messages on my machine. Messages from good, friendly people whose calls I really need to return. But the honest truth is that I've been so crazy busy lately, there just isn't enough time. I've been meaning to call my brother back for, oh, about a week now. Yeah, in fact, tomorrow will be a week from the time I said, "I'm running out the door-- can I call you back?". All of which is to say that if I haven't called, it's not because I don't want to talk to you. It's because I'm buried under lectures about Progressivism and grant applications that really ought to say "please give me your cash."

Me: "Do you realize that someday one of us will be able to say to the other, 'remember when we used to live in Gainesville?'"

John: "Yeah, and then the other will say, 'oh, god, don't remind me!'"