kanji

31 December, 2002
Mama Weer All Crazee Now

A pleasant surprise was waiting for me after work, last night...

Ellie had jetted off to New Mexico for the holiday... leaving the apartment dark, chilly, and soulless. But, on the kitchen counter was the leavings of a bottle of merlot, a clean glass, and a Christmas card. I prefer sharing, but that certainly hit the spot... especially since I'd booked from work early, thanks to the tedium. And, I finally managed to finish the book I'd started two months ago... an excellent one, for those fascinated by the phenomenon that was England in the Sixties: Ready, Steady, Go! (The Smashing Rise And Giddy Fall Of Swinging London) by Shawn Levy. For an east coast child of the time, that's what set the pace. Still does.

A pity I can't seem to read at home. The fact that the television is on non-stop with food prep or home beautifying, might have something to do with it. Never was able to do homework with the tube on, as I recall. Miss Jane can barricade herself behind the Sunday News for an entire day, but as soon as I raise a book to my eyes, that's when she wants to talk. Actually, the only time. Nope, not much reading gets done at home. And there's a hell of a stack that's been building up.

Woke up in a half-decent mood, this morning... despite the fact that I was too lazy to set up the inflatable bed, and made a nest of blankets and slept on the floor. Ah, the life of a migrant worker. Later, went on a mission to track down some of those storage things for wrapping paper... ostensibly for the rolled up poster explosion that's taking over the attic (my kingdom for more wall space). Turns out, it's the "hot" item in the post-holiday feeding frenzy... more scarce than hen's teeth. Judging from the look in the eyes of the hunters in the bargain safari, I may not have made it out alive if I'd bagged some. Backed out through the automatic doors, and never looked back. Then, to the Gulag.

Decisions to be made, in the course of the weekend, about a used Miata. Will I ever learn? I'll never get a house built, at this rate. Perhaps a session with the chainsaw in the woods will correct my priorities, tomorrow afternoon. Still grabbing at the shiny things... and an irresponsible lout. Thinking for two has put a serious hurt on my sensibilities.

Time to git. There's a stout in the fridge, at the end of this road.

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hit me with your rhythm stick




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