For Whom the Liberty Bell Tolls. . .

. . . It tolls for me. My daughter woke up with a 102.4 fever today. Her voice is all shot up and scratchy and so we agreed that communication will be her ringing the little Liberty Bell age-group gimcrack thing that I won in the Philly Marathon last year. It works pretty good; I'm convinced it's the only piece of practical race bauble that I own. But I now know what it's like to be a 19th Century servant or a modern day flight attendant: it's not much fun having a bell summon you. I think I'll stick to my current career path: making charts while dressed in business casual, spinning the hamster wheel of life a few more times, watching the sun rise and set, forming tall shadows off of my cubicle prison at differing angles.