Second, today will likely be mostly boring.
It didn't start that way, with my driving the boy to try and catch the MAX, me barefoot and in my pink bathrobe. We didn't catch it, because of some really odd bald-with-a-mullet-in-a-rusty-truck sorta fellow who was in no hurry (he kinda looked like Thug's pic).
And likely it will not end that way, because today is Sara Bird's BIRTHDAY! YEAY. And there is much celebrating of her birth to be done.
In the meantime, I have several hours to kill. Perhaps I should find a job. Anyone have a copy of last Sunday's classifieds? Nightsoil? I know, not where I should be looking for a job, but I really need the visceral feel of the crinkly and dirty paper to get in the mood.
So, now I'll clean something, I guess. I'm trying to be a good little homemaker so that I don't get kicked out of my rental agreement. I may, however have a painting gig to tide me over for a while, until I swallow what is left of my pride and start begging for proper employment.
I did realize on my drive to the Lloyd center that I do have it OK. I believe that we all have choices in what we do, and that shapes our fate. In effect we are in the current situation solely by our own hand. I made some shitty choices in the last few years, but I also made enough good ones to allow me some banked ablility to pull myself up again. There are others that are much farther gone, ie. the fellow that wanted to wash my windshield. So, sticktoitiveness. And it is never too late to prove what one is capable of. (I had a dream last night that I had Erin Brokovich autograph my diploma when I walked across the stage. HAHAHA).
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