As I sit here in my apartment, listening to the subtle throatiness
of the komodo dragon decaf percolate, I am thoroughly enjoying
this sunday evening. Often the weekends are a time where we
push too hard to get things done (fun things, that is) and we end
up feeling exhausted to start off the week. Sarah bought a new
turquoise blue resistance ball for athletic activity and it is sitting
underneath the din of the hallway light, clogging the pathway
to our illustrious 'old-school back-alley' steel fire exit.
Sarah is currently half way through a massive project and I
figured I would blog from home, writing in a more positive
spirit, as I am not always accustomed to doing so from the hazard
that is my occupation. The laundry is tossing around in the dryer;
metal buttons from jeans send the odd scraping 'tink' from the
other room. The computer area we have is in severe disarray
and needs some alterations. Cords run amuck and there is
very little light in this cramped corner of our living room.
I squint at the monitor...and guess at my key strokes.
Nothing much profound is happening in the old noggin today.
I took a dump (sorry ladies or queasy-stomached readers) earlier
today and was quite disgruntled to see traces of pinky red-ness
in and around the fecal material in the toilet water. Blood? I started
freaking - my mind raced to a million dark places. Quickly
though, I remembered what I had eaten at the Harvey's house last
night with dinner...beets. Very red beets.
'Thank you, Lord'.
Looking forward to new ventures.
The ides of March are upon us. Beware.
