Max: 11 AM Jazz
"You can't hold no groove if you ain't got no pocket."
- Victor Wooten
That quote may or may not have anything to do with what I write here.
It is a little past 11 AM. I finally managed to sleep for a few hours. I am looking out of the window of my home office at my back yard, where at the moment my dog is diligently trying to find a place to pee. I wonder why she can't just let go anywhere in the grass. Back at our old place, I had assumed it was because she shared our yard with our tenants' dogs. But she is the only dog to have used this yard in over a year and she still sniffs around for a while, trying to find the perfect place to pop a squat.
A bit beyond my yard, someone with a sledgehammer is beating the shit out of a section of sidewalk in the subdivision behind my house. The thought occurs that I view this as a perfectly legitimate activity because he has a Bobcat and a dump truck with him. But really, for all I know he is just a particularly thorough vandal who likes to clean up after himself.
It's a nice day out. It's sunny and somewhere in the upper 60's to lower 70's. I wish I had a table and chair on my front porch. It would be nice to drag the laptop out there and surf/write while watching the traffic flow by. I guess I will have to satisfy myself with an open window and watching my dog eat grass. Actually, I just yelled at her to stop. I'm not in the mood to clean up dog vomit.
I was somewhat reluctant to move to the county when we bought this house. With the exception of the first year Laura and I were married, and the odd trip to my parents' lake house and such, I have spent my entire life in cities - mainly Saint Louis and London. The smell of diesel exhaust still takes me back to wandering around London. But our last place in the city was crowded in. Most of our windows looked out on our neighbors' houses, five feet on either side of us. It is a bit less claustrophobic here.
I'm trying not to think about my bad mood last night and the past few days that put me in it. When I do, I start bitching to myself and that really doesn't lead to much beyond making sure I stay in a bad mood. Right now I am willing to settle for my current sleep deprived numbness over the agitated, powerless feeling of the past few days.
Anyway, I'm going to wrap this up. Have a nice day and thank you for choosing Irate Weirdos.
That quote may or may not have anything to do with what I write here.
It is a little past 11 AM. I finally managed to sleep for a few hours. I am looking out of the window of my home office at my back yard, where at the moment my dog is diligently trying to find a place to pee. I wonder why she can't just let go anywhere in the grass. Back at our old place, I had assumed it was because she shared our yard with our tenants' dogs. But she is the only dog to have used this yard in over a year and she still sniffs around for a while, trying to find the perfect place to pop a squat.
A bit beyond my yard, someone with a sledgehammer is beating the shit out of a section of sidewalk in the subdivision behind my house. The thought occurs that I view this as a perfectly legitimate activity because he has a Bobcat and a dump truck with him. But really, for all I know he is just a particularly thorough vandal who likes to clean up after himself.
It's a nice day out. It's sunny and somewhere in the upper 60's to lower 70's. I wish I had a table and chair on my front porch. It would be nice to drag the laptop out there and surf/write while watching the traffic flow by. I guess I will have to satisfy myself with an open window and watching my dog eat grass. Actually, I just yelled at her to stop. I'm not in the mood to clean up dog vomit.
I was somewhat reluctant to move to the county when we bought this house. With the exception of the first year Laura and I were married, and the odd trip to my parents' lake house and such, I have spent my entire life in cities - mainly Saint Louis and London. The smell of diesel exhaust still takes me back to wandering around London. But our last place in the city was crowded in. Most of our windows looked out on our neighbors' houses, five feet on either side of us. It is a bit less claustrophobic here.
I'm trying not to think about my bad mood last night and the past few days that put me in it. When I do, I start bitching to myself and that really doesn't lead to much beyond making sure I stay in a bad mood. Right now I am willing to settle for my current sleep deprived numbness over the agitated, powerless feeling of the past few days.
Anyway, I'm going to wrap this up. Have a nice day and thank you for choosing Irate Weirdos.
posted by Max Dobberstein at 5/24/2005 11:26:00 AM
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