3:48 p.m. - April 12, 2006
Not here long enough to
- Home from Utah, the land of endless run-down strip malls and snow-capped mountains, a melange of images that contrasts the very best and worst that is contemporary American society.
- It is still raining; the HOA, the City, or Conrad the Neighbor sandbagged so the mud avoids running into the street and instead flows freely into my backyard.
- Odd, gamey odor when I opened the door, emanating from the laundry room. Cause? Dead mouse laying in the middle of the room, as if arrested by heart attack in mid-sprint from the non-cat who lives in this house. Mice do not bother me as long as they stay put, but dead mice pique my curiosity and I have no time to be curious.
- Going to Seattle tomorrow where it is not raining. Back Saturday.
- I could deal better with the rain were I oblivious to the rhythm mis-match of the front and rear winshield wipers. Why can't they wipe in tandem? Instead the front wipers complete a swipe and mid-return the rear wiper begins its circuit, so none of them are ever wiping or resting at once. These things irk me worse than bad drivers, puppy-kickers, and dead mice combined.
- Tonight is Passover and I'm going to a seder.
- Working long hours has yet to help me forget why I'm motivated to work long hours: I'm unhappy, vaguely unsatisfied, and spend far too much time alone.
I can't believe I'm even tired of reading. Damn it, I want sex. Now that's a pesky irritant that simply refuses to go away. Sex: To cuddle, to listen to another person breathe next to me, to smile in tandem.
Ain't gonna happen so get back to work.
