Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Cold hands

Today wasn't terrible; it could've ended a lot worse...

Nope. I have NO idea why people keep accusing me of being a pessimist. Why do you ask?

Some feedback I've received is that my posts are awful vague lately. While I can't change that too much, I hear ya. I wish I could show you my day in fabulous Technicolor. It would be shiny and smell like fresh cut grass and ozone.

Frankly there's not much to share. A lot of what's going on is in my head and it's tedious. I can't really draw you a picture of my self-doubt punctuated by moments of arrogance, sarcasm, and a very long to do list. Er, I could, but it would be strictly interpretive. And I'm a lousy dancer.

I worked until 10pm last night. There. That's concrete. Now Matchbox Twenty is singing, "How Far We've Come," and I'm bopping my head. I ate at Mae Phim Thai for dinner. I had the Panang Chicken, 3 star, and a glass of Thai Iced Coffee. It sprinkled today, but not on my way home. I waited for the bus about 20 minutes, standing slightly inside the bus shelter at 2nd and Madison. My hands were cold. I carried leftovers in one hand so I took turns warming each hand in my coat pockets.

I'm glad to be home, though it's sad that I immediately hopped on the computer after hanging up my coat. Hello, addiction. I feel like there is more to say, just under the surface, but I can't quite reach it. Probably just too much coffee.

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