One of those days where you want to do something senseless just to have something to blog.
I figured I'd walk down Elmwood instead of courting my own embarassment--there's always something off-kilter going on down by Wilson Farms. But today things were uncooperative--or simply dull. The riff-raff had been lulled by another successful garbage Wednesday (fat and sleepy bums are generally unwilling to spar). There were no dogs, no strollers, no kids in wagons. The cold had even driven the smell of ripe hippie from the Co-op. I came across someone I know, mouthed an "Aw-fuck", and steeled myself for awkward conversation, but they shuffled on.
The only real diversion was the early morning spitpattern outside of Merlin's that acts as a minefield between Spot and the bank. Not quite postworthy. So I performed the standard held-nose-hop-scotch to mind the stickies, walked home, and resigned myself to my inside antics.
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I had a pleasant discussion with working gravediggers yesterday morning as the filled in the last foot of dirt over my grandfather, and leveled the soil. One was Jamaican and the other from Brooklyn. They were neat.
Today however, was somewhat unremarkable, though I may be performing covert ops later this week. I'm totally psyched.
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