duck-shaped pain


5 October 2002
Precious, precious sweaters.

My three papers (two too many there, I think) are done. 25 total written pages, all in a 24-hour span. Can't say much for their quality, but, at times, "finished" is the greatest virtue. The last one required me to get up absurdly early in the morning on Friday to finish -- like 3:30 a.m. early. I slogged through the remainder of the day, alternately giddy and spacey, and barely made it. Especially since I had the bright idea to agree to go into work. When I got home, I was completely wiped out, and I went to bed at 7:30. I haven't gone to bed that early since I was about six, or possibly since the summer I worked three jobs, one of which started at 4 a.m.

Nasty grey morning here, making it the perfect morning to go to yard sales. Normally, I wouldn't venture out -- coffee and breakfast and sitting around have a magnetic pull on me during crappy mornings -- but today was the morning of the fall edition of the library book sale. I figured that I could go to a few yard sales on the way.

I stopped at two. At the first, I found nothing, but my feet were attacked by two tiny little black dogs. They were hairy and round, like fanged chrysanthemums. I love dogs, but I have a minimum height requirement for them to gain my affection. The second was an estate sale. It's odd how you can tell what people value by how they price things. The guy who presumably died had a lot of books, pretty good ones. These were a quarter each (like I'm going to complain about this), while his sweaters (of all things) were going for $10 each. And they weren't even nice sweaters. When I brought the books that I wanted up to the cashier, she asked me why I would want so many of them (there were only seven). Hmm.

The library book sale was as usual. Some good stuff, a lot of bad stuff. I got some things to sell and some things to read, and people were swarming everywhere.

My house was strangely lacking in breakfast items this morning, so I ate breakfast out. My regular breakfast spots were unapproachable, thanks to multiple events being scheduled downtown today: Octoberfest, a parade, and a soccer tournament. So I ended up at Denny's, where I hadn't eaten in a long time. My breakfast was decent, about what you'd expect, but the coffee was oddly good. At times, you can't beat a hot cup of diner coffee, especially when it gets refilled about every five minutes.

The guy next to me ordered a carafe of orange juice. The waitress brought him his carafe along with an empty juice glass. The guy ignored the glass, and drank straight out of the tall carafe. He had to adjust his neck to keep from smacking the carafe on the table while he drank.

Two things I hate:

1. Hardcover books. Not all of them, just the ones with book jackets. Book jackets are a pain in the ass when you're trying to read a book, but if you take them off, what are you left with? Ugly books. I like paperbacks because there is no book jacket to contend with, and because they're cheaper.

2. Bacon. It's always too crispy or soggy, and tastes like ass.

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