09.14.2002 - 10:29 a.m.
It's Saturday morning, and
I've got the whole sunny day ahead of me to get carried away
on whatever fancy I choose. I could get in my car and play music
and drive endlessly through the mountains. I could find a grassy
meadow, alive with birds and flowers and swooping dragonflies.
I could lie on my back and dream of running, of flight, of movement
and joy. I could close my eyes and listen to the whoosh of my
blood and the beat of my heart and the gentle breeze and the
sound of the birds, all mixing together.
But I think I'll Do Some Errands,
instead. Hey, this isn't Sundry Meaningful, or anything.
What excitement lies before
me? Here's what I plan to do:
- Grocery shopping
- Used CD store
- Sports Authority for yoga
- Petco for Buster Food Cube
("appeals to dogs' foraging instincts")
- Asian store for ripe avocados
- Nursery for bark-crap
Yes indeedy, wild times ahead.
I also need to take a cab back over to Workplace to get my car,
at some point. Last night I went to a bar with some work friends,
and JB drove out to meet us. I managed to get well and truly
hammered, so had to leave the Corolla behind. I drank approximately
34 beers, followed by something called a Smith and Wesson, and
then a Mudslide. I can't believe I don't feel like warmed over
shit this morning.
So early this morning JB boarded
a flight to Hong Kong. He's back to China for business, this
time for two weeks.
That's a long-ass time. I mean,
I am really going to miss him, but more significantly
that is a fucking LOT of frisbee I'm committed to! JB has definitely
done the lion's share of frisbee-hucking for Dog, and now I'll
have to do it.
Oh, you think it's no
big deal - what's a little frisbee, right? Sounds like fun, even.
Yeah, like washing your hands
329581 times a day is fun for the obsessive-compulsives out there.
No matter HOW many times you throw the frisbee for Dog, she wants
more. Every time I go outside, she runs and gets it and fixes
her Bambi eyes on me. If she's inside, she whines piteously and
stares outside at the frisbee. You can visibly see the contents
of her tiny pea brain: 98% Frisbee, 2% Food.
With JB being gone, the house
will stay cleaner longer. The Brita won't have to be filled as
much. There will be no socks on the living room floor. The TV
will only be on when I want it to be. Meals, if prepared at all,
will only have to go on one plate.
But it will be quiet. The dog
will be sad. The bed will feel empty and cold. Sounds in the
night will scare me. I'll talk too much to the dog and the cat,
with unsatisfying results. I'll get confused on how to run the
stupid DVD player. No one will make me coffee in the morning.
It will seem too dark in the evening. Sometimes I'll feel bored,
sometimes I'll feel lonely.
On the plus side, I can eat
salt and vinegar chips without someone looking at me in disgust
and making loud retching sounds.
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