I left my house a complete disaster this morning, but at least I got on the road to work on time. Traffic was exceptionally thick, but I made it in half an hour before I usually do, only to find out that my boss would not be coming into the office again.
My head is fairly clear, but I wish that I could be working from home so that I could clean up while I work.
You're my water, you're my wine, you're my whisky from time to time...
I met my girlfriend for a drink at a restaurant downtown after work but before heading out into the country. I had champagne and she a gin and tonic; the server was the cheery but deadpan same as he always has been so I left him an extra couple dollars on the credit card slip.
Sometimes I wonder why, what with my inability to slow down, to appreciate my job, to smile back at the morning sun on my drive in, to enjoy my smoke breaks, to eat without giving myself indigestion, to drive back home at less than ten miles per hour over the speed limit, to just sit on my perfect porch swing, to fall asleep sober, to slow the fuck down, I don't take a serious look into Buddhism. I really do wonder.
I ordered a subscription to The Economist. I might become a Buddhist after it starts arriving.
