Tuesday, May 23, 2006

You dont want to die
But the living gets you down
We want you to act like nothings wrong
Even though you heard a sound
And then youre ripped right out of the ground...

I am so unbelievably tired. Plunked down to watch JEOPARDY at 3:30 and woke up at 6:00. I guess we’ll call this a “teacher institute day.” There is so much I need to do and I barely found the strength to do a load of laundry, watch “House” and update the iPod. (Rick has been letting me use his iPod lately. Today he owes me, since my computer has again been de-authorized from the iTunes account. I’m the mother, for crying out loud, why can’t I be the fifth computer? (Throw me a frickin’ bone here. I’m the boss. Need the info! Yes - I need access to those whimsical little movie snippets and theme songs. I have needs, too, you guys. )So I practiced loading up the pod with more earworms - I wouldn’t want to share my whole playlist...it has too much resemblance to the choices of a seventh grade girl having a very hormonal day. Maybe that’s what I’ve reverted to.

The good news? Well, I’m too tired to do too much serious writing tonight. But I realized Clyde ate a huge chunk out of the rocker I was thinking of refinishing this summer. I had great plans for a unique one-of-a-kind funky paint job. That would be a great hedge against serious time at the keyboard, wouldn’t it? When I want to write something I find a craft project instead. We could stand to loose one more piece of sub-standard furniture anyway. I let Fran in on my plan....we’ll drag it to the curb Thursday night. Do I put out and hope that it finds a good home (like the way we found it?) or do we deal it a coup de grace to assure that it will not find its way back in? Oh, the dilemmas.

Time for bed. I feel like I could sleep for a week. I think I’m finally getting quality sleep after months of crap. And maybe I don’t rebound from major physical events like I did when I was fifteen. Or even 35.

You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
You've seen what you like
And how does it feel for one more time
You had a bad day
You had a bad day

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-- Michelangelo, quoted in Vasari's Lives of the Artists

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