Get To It
Saturday. Warm, this morning. The sky clear, an amble down the way to my cafe for breakfast at seven. Been a while since I've walked. A waffle, two eggs, two strips of bacon and coffee: the waitress merely nods. An example of my being in a rut? I do order other things, but mostly it's just “waffle”. Is this what friends mean when they say I should get out of my comfort zone? Do you wonder why I pay any attention to these comments at all? You don't?
You're in denial.
What's so bad about denial? I read the paper every morning - the good parts, anyway, about ANS and Britney - and I check Google News more often than a sane man should, learning daily to my dismay how many people in the world worry about dying in the night, forget bacon for breakfast. Denial? Shit. The deeper the better.
So. A three day weekend.
A three day weekend I intend to put to good use cleaning my apartment and printing pictures. I owe pictures to people and it's time I got them done. And (of course) I received a wonder model 3800 Epson photo printer that's been sitting in a box on the floor since Wednesday and it needs unpacking and placing on a table that, at the moment, is piled with crap. It's, um, a bit larger than I was thinking, this printer, but it's supposed to make nice prints. I'm curious how much energy I'll actually expend when I get to it.
Later. Who lives in this place? Where did all this dust come from?