April 16, 2016 by sandwichcontrol
Walking the fuck home.
Today’s song is “Ring Them Bells” by Bob Dylan. It is being brought to you today by Le Duc.
That song makes me cry. Or maybe that’s the exhaustion talking.
Yesterday was a punch in the nuts with a bulldozer.
Workout was gnarly.
Pretty much immediately after I got coffee in me, I headed to work. Where I proceeded to haul shit around. And dig holes. And run errands.
I took a break around 4:30 to eat something since all I had had since breakfast was a tiny protein shake and part of a Powerade. I also took the shower I had hoped to take after breakfast. And I got my meditation in because there was no time after breakfast either. And that was when I realized that everything was conspiring against my Daily Photo for yesterday.
So, I scraped the pieces together and made the best of it. All I could do was laugh…
There was originally going to be a long blonde Brett Michaels wig and those glasses and the antennae and smoking pot out of a honey bear. Or something like that. It fucking fell apart.
I accepted it. And moved the fuck on.
After my hour lunch break, I headed back to work.
Because dinner party.
I had the Rev. Dark Wombat drop me off because I wanted to be able to leave when I got done and if I’d driven, my car would’ve been buried and I would’ve been the last to leave.
I directed parking for about 3 hours. And then I walked the fuck home. In the dark. Through the hood. Didn’t care. I had had enough of Friday.
TGIF? Fuck you.
TCIO. Thank cod it’s over.
My legs were sore about 5pm. They weren’t even legs anymore by the time I got home.
I haven’t decided what they are gonna be today.
I over-fatigued and over-excited myself yesterday, so, of course, I was too tired to sleep properly. I woke up at 2am thinking about patterns. Mostly stripes and dots, but other patterns too. People patterns. I took some drugs, did a little basic Algebra, and finally got back to sleep around 4am.
I was supposed to go to Macker’s funeral this morning. But I’m not. It’s not that I didn’t love and respect Jackie the Mick’s grandmother, it’s just that I am worn out. And that, dear reader, is something Mackers would’ve understood.
Instead, I’m going to attempt to do as little as possible. Except for the photo. I will attempt to make up for yesterday’s dick jamming.
And on that note, I’m going to go relax and watch West Brom kick the ever-loving shit out of Watford. BOING BOING BAGGIES!!!
See ya’ tomorrow.
More soon. ~SC
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