758 days in and I still cant find the wet

758 days in and I still cant find the wet spot.

Da Hole World was right underneath our feet. Underground intelligence reported that its environmentally-concerned citizens were planning to take over Da Restada World.

People watched in horror as invading factions of eco-nuts overran Mostodaworld. But my neighbors and I bravely banded together to stand up and keep Ourtinycornerodaworld safe.

"Bravely" might be a bit inaccurate -- we WANTED to defend our block, and in fact turn it into a Road Warrior style compound. Call it "apocalyptic impatience" if you prefer. In any

case, it was a genious idea. I knew what I was going to do, but they were completely unaware I had schemed up another plan.

You see, I had come up with the plan while plotting to come up with another scheme to replace the plan I'd cooked up while masterminding a way to dream up another plan.

I had contemplated brainstorming to engineer some other skullduggery but I still had to concoct and work out a strategy to design the machinations necessary for my current agenda.

But this was blue sky thinking. I didn't even have the necessary core competencies to move the needle. I had too many moving parts to synergise holistically. I needed to get

myself in gear, hit the ground running with a robust game-changer, then circle back from 30,000 feet. Otherwise, I'd be stuck talking in cliches until the cows came home.