Some things suck huge like tuesday
1. I peeled up the sticker on the corner of my laptop and thought I could stick it back down but I couldn't. Every time I put my wrist there, kind of essential to using the laptop, it cut me. Great. Now I have a sticky spot where I peeled the HP sticker off.
2. I made Portuguese soup for dinner and it was really spicy. We couldn't figure it out because the only seasoning in it is salt, pepper, and a bay leaf. Oh yes. Then I remember the can of tomatoes with green chiles. That would do it.
3. I have about ten pages left of the book I'm reading. I dread the ending because I'll miss those people. Regis asked if I know the difference between fiction and real life. I do.
4. I have these red velvet (actually velour) drapes in my living room. They look kind of whore house-ish but I've liked them. I realized sitting here in the sun that they're faded on the edges. Like Miss Havisham's house: moth eaten, spider webby, faded, ugly. And I have no interest in finding anything else.
5. There's a window in our living room that looks like it popped its seal. It's foggy and even though I've tried cleaning it, it won't un-fog. For months, I had, on my list of things to do, to call Dean Williams. He's the guy who installed them after the tornado. I was sure they had a ten-year warranty so...instead of calling Dean, I waited and waited and procrastinated until the ten years was up. Now I have this constant reminder of my fatal flaw. See #4.
This is one of those posts that I'm writing in the living room while watching tv. 30 Rock is on and that keeps my attention for the most part. Every once in a while I get an inspiration and type a few lines. It's probably obvious. No flow. Not much inspiration.
2. I made Portuguese soup for dinner and it was really spicy. We couldn't figure it out because the only seasoning in it is salt, pepper, and a bay leaf. Oh yes. Then I remember the can of tomatoes with green chiles. That would do it.
3. I have about ten pages left of the book I'm reading. I dread the ending because I'll miss those people. Regis asked if I know the difference between fiction and real life. I do.
4. I have these red velvet (actually velour) drapes in my living room. They look kind of whore house-ish but I've liked them. I realized sitting here in the sun that they're faded on the edges. Like Miss Havisham's house: moth eaten, spider webby, faded, ugly. And I have no interest in finding anything else.
5. There's a window in our living room that looks like it popped its seal. It's foggy and even though I've tried cleaning it, it won't un-fog. For months, I had, on my list of things to do, to call Dean Williams. He's the guy who installed them after the tornado. I was sure they had a ten-year warranty so...instead of calling Dean, I waited and waited and procrastinated until the ten years was up. Now I have this constant reminder of my fatal flaw. See #4.
This is one of those posts that I'm writing in the living room while watching tv. 30 Rock is on and that keeps my attention for the most part. Every once in a while I get an inspiration and type a few lines. It's probably obvious. No flow. Not much inspiration.
Comments
4. i love miss havisham. have you read the jasper fforde books? she shows up in the thursday next series as a vibrant, wacky character... like maybe everything she could have been had she not been left at the alter and lost her will to live. man, i love books!
I must be illiterate because I have never heard of Miss Havisham!!!
Peter is the wonder man of washing windows; wait until he lives in your basement and put him to work.