Thursday. I wandered over to Happy Burrito Number Two for lunch today, wondering if I'd run into AJ and some of the rest of the Thursday crew. No, but then I was using it as an excuse to have a burrito, a burrito (the size of a small dachshund wrapped in foil with hippity hop hot sauce on the side) washed down with diet Coke. (One must watch one's calories, after all.) Yes, I keep an eye on these things - fat, cholesterol, screaming hot peppers - but I have to let it go now and then if only to maintain my cheerful disposition. I certainly wouldn't want to lose my cheerful disposition.
And that's your day? You ate a burrito?
Ah, but a Happy Burrito. There are worse things in the world than a Happy Burrito Thursday.
Friday. A long day at work, but the sun was shining, the temperature in the low 70's, the fan currently blowing a cool breeze over my body as I sit here at the computer, Ms. Emmy a bit hyper, but the laundry is in the drier (How did that happen on a Friday after a long day at work? I'm usually too wasted.) and I am sitting here (as I mentioned) writing the Great American Journal Entry.
Many would aspire to the Great American Novel.
I wrote the Great American Novel, but my hard drive crashed and I didn't have the heart or the memory to write it out again. Well, that's not true. I wrote The Great American Journal Entry, but in my sleep, in a dream, and I never remember my dreams when I awake. A tragedy, of course, if it weren't for this cool breeze from the fan and this flask that was filled, just a moment ago, with piping hot sake. And one good sake deserves another. Here in Oakland.