October 8, 1991

I spend the morning at home, reading, taping, wishing Barb weren't here so this house could give up its dormitory feel.  The countdown is now under the three-month mark.

The furnace guy stops by around 11.  He discovers a dangerously plugged-up unit.  That tongue of flame I discovered at the end of last year's heating season was due to a clogged flue.

I don't have a very productive afternoon; I'm too busy thinking about how my presentation to the Finance Committee will go.  I get my points across, but my gut feeling is that this is not a year for staff increases.  

The board meets at 6, and the major agenda item is the endowment policy.  The rest of the evening is relatively slow.

I read and watch the last few innings of the AL playoff game once I get home.