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Today.
Today was Sunday. It was the 21st date of August on the year two thousand and five after christ our savior was born in a manger in bethlahem.
I gathered rocks today at the seashore. I gathered them with my best friend. We were getting them so that we could put them in the planter so that our oldest cat would be dissuaded from pissing in it.
The pack was gathered in a 'hippie' bag that I had purchased at a yardsale when I was babysitting daisy... dogsitting.
The day was good and long and short and now it's over. I'm about to sleep in the king sized bed purchased from some store where you can buy beds for little or no money. It is a good expensive bed if you purchased it in a store.
Tomorrow is work day. Mondays often are.
Today, my neighbor said I had gotten quite thin. She is a mother of two (michael and some little girl who is quite cute, but I never quite get her name). She is always doing laundry. When I was unemployed, it was a thing to me - she and I fighting sweetly over the laundry machines - putting each other's loads one step ahead.
She asked me how I did it. Would I say? cigarettes, heartbreak, and sagas?
I had just eaten my way through stacks of potatoe chips and was shortly to eat bars of chocolate and pork chops and mashed potatoes and peas.
I was to watch a bit of madonna's truth or dare and then futurama and voyager.
It's a day like any other sunday.
Trudging slowly over wet sand.
Eric, you would be happy/sad/indifferent to know that I disobeyed all injunctions from the internet stars today/this weekend. I didn't socialize or create. I sat in and counted the numbing hours until the numbing other things happened.
I am not happy and I'm not sad.
I am going to sleep and perhaps I'll dream of
stars.
This is pretty much the art I do.
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