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Happy Wednesday, everyone!  It’s gonna be another scorcher here in the Pacific Northwest.  Temps hovering around 90, tree plunged into early autumn due to lack of moisture, kids running amok in sprinklers.

Not a bad gig, that.

In other news, our front desk person for Planning & Public Works has been on vacation.  Four of us have taken split shifts to cover her time.  You meet all kinds of interesting people, working the phones and desk. Like the fencing contractor who came in the other day to check the property line boundary for his client.  My coworker and I double-teamed the front, she sitting in the hot seat if the phone rang, me in the co-pilot chair.  Sometimes “divide and conquer” is the best strategy.

We told him we didn’t know everything, but would do our best to help. We each knew a little.  We could combine our efforts and make something bigger.

“Cool,” he said.  “You have the same demeanor.”

Okay.

“Could you look up the boundary lines on this parcel for me?  I just want to make sure I’m staying within the lines,” he said.  As I looked it up on the county website, he talked to my coworker.

“So did you know our DNA is similar to pig DNA?” he asked her.  A fit sandy-haired man in his 50s, he leaned towards the counter, intent.

She assented she’d heard that.  Organ donations often come from porcine elements.

He went on to talk to her about how a billion years back, pigs and humans were one species.  That’s how come the organ transplants work so well.  He outlined the history of time and evolution, just for her benefit.

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

My coworker, ever gracious, agreed.

Then this…

“In Atlantian times…”

I didn’t know any of this was going down until later.  Embroiled in my own drama of trying to pull up the aerial view of parcels in Shelton took all my attention. I caught up with the conversation when the contractor started talking about the Illuminati and conspiracy theories. Oh, and aliens.

I looked at my comrade.  She looked at me.

Is it Friday yet?

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