Failure of the Day: Self-Sufficiency
"The supershuttle came and took my baby away"...needs work, even as a country song, I know. Just goes to show you that reality doesn't always lend itself to art. (If only the slammers would hurry up and learn that.)
Now I've got my lovely apartment to myself untill friday night. I've done some hustling to fill up my social calandar for the week so I don't get a little batty, so it's looking to be a pretty OK week despite. I also have sole custody of Bevmo, our fish, and Mr. Silverman, our ficus tree. The poor things should be very worried for their very lives; I am notoriously bad at keeping things alive. It's emabarassing because there really is only one bad possible outsome (it is dead) and a whole spectrum of good outcomes, all of which do not culminate in the death of my charge, but I always manage to land squarely on that one bad outcome. I have murdered many poor fish (RIP Fluffy, who I accidentally boiled), and I have managed to kill even cacti, which I previously (mis)understood to be more or less impervious to even the blackest of thumbs. Not so. I guess we'll see if my newfound "I'm a very fine married lady" maturity translates into better fortune for those lower on the food chain
Today I will venture out to Berkeley on BART to see Jefferey McDaniel read at Cody's. He is about the best poet who still walks the earth in my opinion, and the odds are good that I will run into folks I know. Should be an OK day.
Chris lands in Florida at about 11 PM his time; He should call at some point during the hollow husk of the Acadamy Awards to prevent my catastrophic imagination from screaming plane crash! plane crash!
Didn't I used to be less neurotic? (probably not, but I'd like to think so.)
"The supershuttle came and took my baby away"...needs work, even as a country song, I know. Just goes to show you that reality doesn't always lend itself to art. (If only the slammers would hurry up and learn that.)
Now I've got my lovely apartment to myself untill friday night. I've done some hustling to fill up my social calandar for the week so I don't get a little batty, so it's looking to be a pretty OK week despite. I also have sole custody of Bevmo, our fish, and Mr. Silverman, our ficus tree. The poor things should be very worried for their very lives; I am notoriously bad at keeping things alive. It's emabarassing because there really is only one bad possible outsome (it is dead) and a whole spectrum of good outcomes, all of which do not culminate in the death of my charge, but I always manage to land squarely on that one bad outcome. I have murdered many poor fish (RIP Fluffy, who I accidentally boiled), and I have managed to kill even cacti, which I previously (mis)understood to be more or less impervious to even the blackest of thumbs. Not so. I guess we'll see if my newfound "I'm a very fine married lady" maturity translates into better fortune for those lower on the food chain
Today I will venture out to Berkeley on BART to see Jefferey McDaniel read at Cody's. He is about the best poet who still walks the earth in my opinion, and the odds are good that I will run into folks I know. Should be an OK day.
Chris lands in Florida at about 11 PM his time; He should call at some point during the hollow husk of the Acadamy Awards to prevent my catastrophic imagination from screaming plane crash! plane crash!
Didn't I used to be less neurotic? (probably not, but I'd like to think so.)
posted by Nancy @ 10:23 AM
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