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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 pants
  • Library
  • 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.

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0 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

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