Today is a simple day. Outside it’s all white. They had been predicting a large snowfall all week but as i drifted off last night i hardly even remembered it. I’ve been sleeping on the floor since i got back because my bed still has the results of my cleaning spree all over it. This morning my eyes were pried open by the scrape of a metal shovel against cold hard cement, and even then i didn’t remember. A quick glance out of my window found tiny shards of whiteness lazily drifting down towards the ground, and it was then i knew.
Snow just makes the day more simple: it’s presence acting like a giant blanket muffling all of the streetsounds that usually remind me that there is an outside world. Now it’s just me, my guitar, and my fresh box of hot cocoa. And, of course, you.
thoughts
I don’t like to be sick. I realize that no one does like to be sick, but i dislike it for different reasons than most people. I don’t mind being a little run down or having a slight temperature, but i refuse to let some alien little virus take over the controls of my body for any extended period of time. As such, unless totally incapacitated, i will not cease my daily activities just because i’m feeling deathly and running a 102 degree fever. So, this morning i set off for the coffee shop sporting glands swollen to the size of golf balls and a medium-high temperature… and now it’s gone! Whee!!
Wow, that’s two posts in a row tangentially related to marijuana. I’m so naughty…
Thoughts while boarding a plane…:
12/19/2000 6:38 PM – Planes are interesting. I’m convinced that they’re pumping in fresh pine smell, and i’m not sure how i feel about that. It does not help the claustrophobia. There are too many children on this flight. One of them is obsessed with looking at me, but i don’t mind so much. I think he’s Greek… his family seems to be speaking Greek. The outside of the plane was ultra-marine navy blue… i laid a heavy hand on it on my way in. Fingerprints. Something permanent, until washed away. yeah. So, anyway, my collarbone hurts like hell from carrying my bookbag through the airport. I just underlined “collarbone” like a hyperlink … how sick is that? I was thinking of taking a sedative for the flight, but i’d still be doped up when i arrived in Ft. Lauderdale. I have a friend who smokes pot before every flight… but i’m incoherent and giggly enough as it is.
Ok… that’s enough. My carry-on is too fucking huge and i need to relax. love ya.
– Music: Garrison Starr – I Can’t Wait
Would you believe i have cuts and scratches behind my earlobes because i have detached lobes and they catch on all my shirts when i take them off? Doesn’t that sound like some ridiculous made up thing that wouldn’t really happen because it sounds so dumb? Yeah… that’s what i thought too…