I haven’t really been posting much with anything regarding updates related to my life lately. Not on purpose, I assure you, I just haven’t had much going on, other than the continuing internal monologue that goes something like this, “What am I doing? Am I doing enough? I need to write. I’m hungry. Girls are awesome.” SNR had come home Tuesday night and had to fly off that night again to Oklahoma because her grandmother died. 😦 She did take me out to Mesa Coyocoaocpeopeocpocooeo before she left, though, for making sure her plants didn’t die. Which is a miracle. We’ve had some “guests” staying in the empty room for the past few nights and let me tell you, there has been some fuckin’ going on. I mean, more power to them, but is he being shipped off or something? Day and night, people. Day and night. Plus, they have some weird obsession with putting the latch lock on the door every time they go through it. *shrug*
Work has been bleah, weather has been bleah and I’m getting thinner by the day. Luckily, I had the losing weight issue put into perspective for me the other day. A customer, who I had been talking to regularly and had finally come in and met with Mr. Dennis this week, had a nice revelation for me. His name was Fred and he was somewhere between 80 and 1 million years old. I said, “Hi, I’m Allen.” He shook my hand and said, “You’re a little overweight.” I paused and said, “Why yes, I am. I have lost about fifteen or twenty pounds since I moved here, but I-” “Yeah, that’s what they all say.” Oooooookay. “Well, I have a while to go.” “How much do you weigh?” “About 220.” “Wow, yeah, you need to lose more.” So, the moral is, old people are rude. And I am THINNER, but not thin. Good, because I have a tendency to get overconfident.
I’m squeezing by with my finances, but REALLY squeezing. It will get better in a few months, of course, but until then, I won’t be buying any gold plated toilet paper anytime soon. SNR came home for good last night and I went and bought some eggs and milk and made us some french toast because I’m still human, damn it. Boogs cannot live on peanut butter alone. Then she went to work. Not her work. HOUSEWORK. I consider myself a relatively tidy guy and have been sweeping and keeping the house up, but I did forget. SNR turned this place back into a home.
I’m still going to tell another story on October 6th at the Cornelia Cafe for Speakeasy Stories. Maybe I should figure out what story I’m going to tell, eh? (that eh was for Bondy, who spent all week in Canadia)