Dana Burland

Exactly three days after basically carrying my futon home from Target strapped to my back, it was christened by the first visitor to my Second Street apartment- my dear friend Kendal. In honor of her NEW JOB! she scored herself the last seat on a flight to yours truly for an East Coast vacation.  Although I almost lost her to a gaggle of flirty middle aged men at the airport bar in Milwaukee (she’s a man-eater), by Wednesday night I had a little Dutch princess snoozing on the level below me. Thursday, Friday and Saturday mornings I would wake up before 8, tip toe down the stairs and peak my head around the corner just to make sure my special guest really was there. Yes, future visitors, this creepy wake up call is just one of the special amenities of staying at my residence.  Another is making sure the bathroom is clear of stink bugs before you disrobe to shower.  It’s lovely staying with me, really.

This is a story of a task that seemed impossible.  It’s a tale of motivation, determination with a pinch of craziness and a sprinkle of impulse. It started with a tiny idea, which gained enough momentum to eventually become a must-accomplish-now kind of itch that makes you drop what you’re doing and roll around on the floor trying to stop the skin crawly tickles from attacking you.  Hm, never happened to you?  Moving on then. Saturday night the festering idea began to sprout.  I hoped by the time I woke Sunday morning that it would have been squished, but turns out the night had done nothing but water my little idea seedling and now I was faced with a jungle of an idea I could hardly ignore.