Justin on a Hot Tin Roof

7:10am:
I stumbled out of bed. Byron walked by confirming to the rest of the cabin that I was still alive.

7:40am:
I wearily crossed the doorstep into the commons tent for breakfast: cereal and a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich.

The period of time between 8am and 5pm remains a series of foggy flashbacks to me. Bright lights, sharp objects and a strange portrait of Elvis form the extent of my comprehendable memories. I'm not quite sure what happened to me, but I seem to have a strange tick and one of my pinky toes is larger than the other.

Naaa, I'm just kiddin'. I spent the day working on the shed that we've been working on for the past few days. It's about 16'x9' with a single pitched roof and ply-panel siding. We'll finish, for the most part, by lunch tomorrow.

Some of the other people from our GT ASB group are painting the homes of a few fair citizens of Pearlington.

I've spent most of my time on the roof of the shed which sits about 15 feet off the ground. Seeing as I am a bit of a thrill seeker, the roof seems to be a comfortable place for me. However, sometimes it gets a bit boring being up there hammering away in the noon-day sun. There's a quick cure to these not-so-gripping times. I simply complain that my arm is swelling from ant bites and pop a few benedryl. Being up on a 15 foot roof while drowsy and slightly less coordinated is quite the rush especially when you're a bit dizzy from dehydration.

The roof has been fun, but I think I'm in need of something of a larger caliber, something more thrilling. Maybe later on tonight I'll go wonder down crack alley alone, with no clothes on. That should get the old blood flowing a bit.

One final note: all of the activities mentioned above are slightly less leathal than listening to a political discussion amongst our ASB group members. --Justin