solitary Saturday
Mar. 5th, 2005 05:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ffloEnjoyed seeing the gang to celebrate ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lovelikeyeast last night. Got home just in time to take a call out the blue from a buddy who might well come visit in June. Today, though, has been a just-me day, as tomorrow stands to be as well.
Bought an old stethescope at the Kiwanis. For those of you who don't know, Ann Arbor's Kiwanis thrift is open only on Saturday, and only in the morning. Creates a sense of event, and of urgency. Nonetheless, after carrying it around for 10 minutes, I managed to resist the urge to give 'em a buck for the "Magic Wand"---not a vibrator, but a green plastic handle with two rotatable, mildly magnetized balls-with-spikes mounted on the side of one end. It was in office supplies; I take it its purpose is to pick up dropped pins and paperclips and the like.
Got some good bread & came home, realizing how much less I enjoy Saturday putzing about when it's on my own. Watched Pirates of the Carribean---or is it Caribbean---I always have to look it up, and right now I'm not going to, goddammit, even if it is just a matter of another window & a few keystrokes. I strike out in rebellion, not giving a crap HOW it's spelled! Isn't that the purpose of a weekend, for a copy editor?? Mother-fuck! Egads and gadzooks! Up the Irish!, as they gave as an example of an interjection in the rules to MadLibs, setting me to head-scratching an itch of puzzlement about the expression that was years in subsiding.
What now; what now?
There are dishes I could do and plenty of strewn items I could pick up around the house, but. I know there's a point to that sort of thing, yet I can't pull it up. Nope. It's a lack of faith thing about tending to my personal environs. It's an understanding of the what-then that follows. Lord help me, cuz I sure ain't helpin' myself with that one.
If I sit at the computer any longer I'll either resort to doing the freelance thing I sat down here to get at, or chain-play a neurotic string of yahoo! dominoes matches against voiceless strangers.
(The smart money's on the latter.)
lovelikeyeast last night. Got home just in time to take a call out the blue from a buddy who might well come visit in June. Today, though, has been a just-me day, as tomorrow stands to be as well.Bought an old stethescope at the Kiwanis. For those of you who don't know, Ann Arbor's Kiwanis thrift is open only on Saturday, and only in the morning. Creates a sense of event, and of urgency. Nonetheless, after carrying it around for 10 minutes, I managed to resist the urge to give 'em a buck for the "Magic Wand"---not a vibrator, but a green plastic handle with two rotatable, mildly magnetized balls-with-spikes mounted on the side of one end. It was in office supplies; I take it its purpose is to pick up dropped pins and paperclips and the like.
Got some good bread & came home, realizing how much less I enjoy Saturday putzing about when it's on my own. Watched Pirates of the Carribean---or is it Caribbean---I always have to look it up, and right now I'm not going to, goddammit, even if it is just a matter of another window & a few keystrokes. I strike out in rebellion, not giving a crap HOW it's spelled! Isn't that the purpose of a weekend, for a copy editor?? Mother-fuck! Egads and gadzooks! Up the Irish!, as they gave as an example of an interjection in the rules to MadLibs, setting me to head-scratching an itch of puzzlement about the expression that was years in subsiding.
What now; what now?
There are dishes I could do and plenty of strewn items I could pick up around the house, but. I know there's a point to that sort of thing, yet I can't pull it up. Nope. It's a lack of faith thing about tending to my personal environs. It's an understanding of the what-then that follows. Lord help me, cuz I sure ain't helpin' myself with that one.
If I sit at the computer any longer I'll either resort to doing the freelance thing I sat down here to get at, or chain-play a neurotic string of yahoo! dominoes matches against voiceless strangers.
(The smart money's on the latter.)
