12 January, 2005
it's a dirty job but someone's gotta do it

the waking was a bit more rude than usual, yesterday morning.
even in those last deep minutes of sleep, the heaviest just before the alarm, the tiniest of noises brought me to consciousness... sounds like those that the cat makes when she's determined to fuck with something. half-heard, little picky sounds that insistent claws make.
but, she was closed up in the kitchen where i'd left her, five hours previously
maybe she'd rediscovered how to make the swinging door open, again, i groggily thought.
probably.
true to character, the first words out of my mouth were...
"Goddamnit, Cat!"
the next sound... the smash of glass.
somehow, the point-of-no-return was reached in one of the portraits in the hallway. old frame, loose fasteners, several photos overlapped together, something in the scheme of things decided that the stresses were too much... and out slid the glass to the floor. a half-hour before the alarm.
not the cat.
sorry, kitty.

thus, for me began twenty-one straight hours of Monday.

two hours of driving. twelve of sitting in front of a cathode ray tube. and no smoking allowed anywhere on premises, a new wrinkle in Human Resources plan for our "health". yeah... the health of our insurance policy. just like the new "security" system, requiring us to wave digitized cards over a panel to allow us to enter, and exit. of course, our comings-and-goings are not monitored. of course not.
Human Resources=Soylent Green. Soylent Green is PEOPLE!
ranting. all i have left.
so far.

guess i need my own upcheer, Golfwidow.

Sunday, the day after the last chartreuse funk exited my sinuses, i tackled the rickety toilet in my mom's house. never properly fastened to the floor (by professionals), it was my turn to make it right. commode-hugging (not the hurling kind)... someone else's.
Funky Town.
good that i made myself join the living, regardless of such a nasty task... since i got the chance to visit the newly born. the vet's nephew, who'd been keeping his flock of south African sheep in the field next door, mentioned that one of his ewes had given birth to twins. one, unregisterable, because of the grey and brown markings on an animal that should have been white.

.