No cat food. House is terrifyingly dirty. Trash pulled out of trash can and scattered all over the washroom. Laundry pulled out of the closet and stacked against the wall. Not enough eggs left to make breakfast. The cat was so hungry last night she pushed a plant off the shelf. Dirt everywhere. Planter busted. Came home drunk last night after a few hours of rehearsing country music and found J. and C. in the kitchen being cuddly, holding hands and what-not. (immediate thought: where's THIS going to go?) C. escaped when I went to find her a foamy to sleep on. This morning I had to poney-up my salmon to the kitty so she would fuck off for at least eight seconds. I feel like Elliott Gould in "The Long Goodbye." You're alright with me. Hahaha. And I'm feeling good.
I'm going to do nothing this morning.
The house will take an hour to whip into shape. I'm going to stave off the hunger. I used to breakfast first thing every morning. Now I don't. And as far as last night goes, a sober mind explains most of it.
yeah, that was a pretty emotional moment.
Posted by: caroline at February 11, 2006 12:53 PMrugged. surely, you are living in god's country.
Posted by: clint waller at February 16, 2006 3:18 PM