goat

well fuck.
I am finally over my hangover from Monday night's escapade. I don't think I am going to drink another glass of wine again. Sitting at the bar definitely has it's advantages--or disadvantages depending on what orifice is buried in the toilet bowl.
Unfortunately for me it was the latter, not the former.

Mercury must be retrograde. I keep losing things--my glasses, sunglasses, cell phone, checkbook--I chipped my front tooth and a kid ripped my silk scarf in class. My back was turned and I heard this heart-wrenching "rip". The room was silent and all eyes were on him. They waited for me to lash out in a fiery rage. And in my silence, I realized that all this shit: phones, teeth, glasses--it was all pointless. I told him to forget about it. Cheers rang out--I felt like a hero.

I picked up my daughter from daycare yesterday and read her report--the provider said," She read a book to us and was so animated...And at the end, closed the book and said 'bye-bye'."
My daughter rocks my socks.

Another weekend is rapidly approaching. Being alone again is okay but what I wouldn't do for a little intimacy, actually company would be divine. Come Saturday around 4p.m. I get sad and stumble around town with my hands in my pockets. It's a self-defeating activity but better than sitting at home with the ghosts of bitter fights, crying and isolating solitude. I'm lookin for water from a deeper well.

I think I will go see Rachel Caswell tonight. After all, I have the day off tomorrow. Sigh.