Lost, but not

Having deposited my graduation money at the bank, I glanced at the passenger seat of my SUV. What?! No book to return to Barnes & Noble? Blast! My pre-order of HP&tHBP must wait for another day. So, what to do? Call crandall's...busy. Call Brady...in manhattan. Call Congdon's...no answer (surprisingly not busy). Call nathan...being exclusive. When all seems hopeless, just g oto Congdons. I am there right now. For all i know i am the only one here. Jim may be in his room pondering the meaning of life, but i am here, mooching their internet access, listening to the persistent beeping of an alarm clock left unattended, ignoring a phone that i don't feel obligated to answer. I didn't break in. No one would ever have to break into the Congdon's home. Just walk through the open garage door, or go around back to the sliding door that some little elf magically unlocks, or, if those two options fail for some reason, any code ending in 8 is a sure bet on the garage door keypad. Soon, i'll probably leave, with no evidence of my current visit betraying my presence. How many places are there like this? I think just two. Others come close, but there would still be a lurking fear of beign discovered. None exists within me. Should any member of the family venture into the basement, i would acknowledge their presence, they mine, and away i would type on my new blog entry. Just another home base, another place where nobody cares if you eat your boogers or have bed head. A place where you can go when you're lost, but not.

(what do you know, someone just woke up...i think its doug, let's go investigate!)