A/C, I Love You.

This morning and early afternoon I made the site visit. Nice people. If you ever have a disability, move to Georgia. These folks do have your best interests at heart. They also have Chick Fil-A in the cafeteria on Wednesdays.

I switched hotels. I'm coming to you now from my trusty Pismo. This is in stark contrast to the Windows XP box (only recently upgraded from Windows 97) and the dialup connection at my former lodgings. I think I'm paying $3 more per night and driving four miles further. Not bad. It's a shame though. All they had left was a suite. Joanie, come on down!

From what I've seen, Stone Mountain is aptly named. It was described to me as "appearing as if a bald man's head is protruding from the earth." You'll be happy to know that some fringes of follicles remain. Bits of foliage color the sides of the hill. Randomly. It looks as if somebody was shaving that head, but had only a dull razor to do it with.

If we could find a willing public to purchase humidity, this place would be a gold mine. The Middle East of moist air. It's been raining the past couple of days. That's probably too strong a term. It's been drizzling. While driving, one fends off the weather with air conditioning. Beautiful, cool air conditioning going full blast until the side windows become completely fogged over. I decided, for safety's sake, to clear the windows. Braving the splash from the truck I was following, I lowered the window. At a moment like that, one can appreciate the value of air conditioning. The rush of warm, wet air was like a dog breathing in my face. Sans the smell. It was deflating. Enervating. I happily raised the windows, retreating to my cocoon of manufactured comfort.

Now I'm off to the local dining. I live next to Olive Garden for these two days and I haven't touched my per diem yet. Then I'll return to the keyboard to complete some reports.

Have a fine evening. Y'all.