Tomorrow I'll be on a "field trip" to the mighty Brazos River, where I will likely get washed downstream by a flash flood and eventually be swallowed up by the unforgiving sea. Thus is the harsh life of a lowly archaeologist.

I bet if I had a sweet job at Barnes and Noble where I was making slight amounts of money rather then spending it at an ungodly rate, I could lead a life of leisure. I can picture it now: sitting in a comfortable armchair in my smoking jacket, possibly with a snifter of brandy and a fresh tin of monacle polish.

Whoa, that was strange... I felt like a robber baron from the 1920's for a minute, there. I wonder what that means.