01.29.2003 - 7:49 p.m.
I haven't been drinking coffee
at work lately. I don't know why, maybe I got sick of wrestling
with the espresso machine or something. For whatever reason,
today I made a double latte in the morning, and had a second
one in the late afternoon. Not. A good. Idea. At. All. Being
completely saturated with caffeine gives you a dodgy stomach,
and turns your brain into one of those mechanical toys that reels
around crazily, bouncing off walls and changing direction, accompanied
by a mental soundtrack of drunken circus music.
It was in this fragile state
that I got in my car to drive home, only to be assaulted by the
worst traffic in the universe. An hour into my commute found
me still miles from home, gripping the wheel so hard indentations
were forming, and fighting off the very real and rising urge
to pee my pants. With nothing but a sea of red lights in front
of me, I considered my options - pull over and whiz on the road?
Simply Let Things Happen Naturally, and worry about the car seat
later? I don't think I would have gotten myself so wound up about
my bladder if my brain wasn't still careening around at 136 MPH
- unlike my car, which was inching along at 12 MPH.
The happy ending is that things
finally picked up and I was able to get home, hustle the dog
to the backyard, and rush madly to the bathroom where angels
sang, a beam of light shot down from the heavens, and all was
right with the world again.
On a (sort of) related topic,
my dog took a crap the size of a rolled-up sleeping bag
today on a very public part of the trail near Workplace. This
is incredibly bad dog ownership, to leave a steaming collection
of turds for some perky jogger to mash into the tread of their
Nikes. Proper etiquette demands collection of said turds in a
baggie of some kind. Unfortunately, I had no bag with me. Even
worse, two people were walking my way and could clearly see my
dog, humped over and delivering her colossal gift to mankind
right there in the open.
What to do? I had *nothing*
with me. Certainly no one could expect me to reach over and grasp
the poo with my hands, merrily hefting it along until
I could find a trash can? So what I did was, I stood there and
rooted through my pockets while the people passed by. I fixed
a faraway, vaguely contemplative expression intended to communicate
the fact that I HAD a bag, sure I did, but it's just that I can't
remember what pocket I put it in. Shooting a furtive glance over
my shoulder, I waited until they were several yards away before
tearing off, leaving the mound of unlawful shit lying in wait
for the hapless jogger.
Moving on to a subject that
does not involve either pee OR poop, for which I am sure you
are quite glad, I had lunch with the funny and charming Chiara today, whose diary is also very funny
and charming. We had a wonderful chat about journals we both
like, and how we got into the whole online this-is-my-life thing,
and it was very fun. We both agreed that we shouldn't write entries
about our lunch with links to each other's diaries and gush about
how cool we thought the other person was, because that's, like,
so post-Journalcon, you know? And here I am doing exactly that.
Well, this diary ain't called
Sundry Original, or anything.
JB gets home tomorrow morning,
huzzah! I have missed him, the house is just too dark and lonely
and the TV too loud and garish and the bed too big and empty
with him gone.
I am really, really looking
forward to him reclaiming his title as Main Frisbee Thrower.
I love Dog, but it's a fucking drag to have to stand out
in the pouring rain, throwing an object covered in drool and
mud, with hands that slowly atrophy into frozen, grimy claws.
Man, she digs that Frisbee.
You can't even whisper the word "frisbee" around her
or she goes completely batshit. It's the yin to her yang, the
apple of her eye, the bottle of Seconal to her Anna Nicole Smith.
Bad latte. Go away now. Must
sleep tonight. Must not grind teeth to fine powder. Nice Amstel
go back :::
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004