This morning, at 7:00 am, my blissful sleep is interrupted by pounding on my front door and the doorbell ringing. As I groggily head towards the door, I figure maybe somebody's house is on fire. Or perhaps something else equally bad. Peering through the peephole is a construction worker.

"Yes?" I ask him.

"We're going to start tearing up the street in front of your driveway. You need to move your car as your driveway won't be usable for at least the next week."

Wonderful. Now I knew that our complex was going to be repaved (the pavement is 30 years old and is showing its age), but there was no notice that this was starting today. I spot a bulldozer, a couple hydraulic drills, and other equipment. And one of the drills starts working on the street near (but not in front of) my driveway. I tell the guy give me five minutes and I'll move the car.

I move my car, and ask the foreman why I wasn't notified. "Well," he began, "We figured the drills would wake you up and everyone would move their cars." After I told him that I work from home, I let him know my displeasure about not being notified. Later, I called the management company. I was the 23rd person to complain (at 9:15am) about the lack of notice (they open at 9am). He promised us that they would give us at least three days notice in the future....

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If you want to see me playing poker, I'll be at the Bike Friday morning. I'm meeting with a client just after noon in that area, and it's a convenient location for me between meetings to eat lunch and maybe win a few dollars. Looking at the stack of tax returns on my desk, and in my office (and the inbox), I doubt I'll be playing much real poker until May.

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The editing process on the book marches forward. There are only about three chapters left for editing. scottro and I will soon be working on our website (since we'll soon have more than one book on the market, we might as well engage in some marketing). I expect we'll be announcing the title around month-end.