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Hot flop

This morning TA wouldn’t let me scrape the ice off the car’s windshield.

“Get back inside, you dope! You’re going to get all dirty!”

So I sat there, with the seat on 4 and the defrost on 11, watching him scratchscratchscratch. I don’t think I’d ever experienced that before. I kept my hands warm with a commute mug filled with CS Gingerbread Spice Holiday Herb tea.

All year round, I steer clear of that brand (the packaging is lame, the illustrations too hippy/folksy, the tea quality middling) but in December, I cannot resist me a cup of this stuff. I know the parent company is run by environmentally-conscious, earth-guilty white liberals who are “totally dedicated to the endless quest for excellence in the important tasks that we endeavor to accomplish” whatever the hell THAT means, but I think the tea must contain crack.


I am busy with work which is good. Lots of little projects, plus a few large ones on the horizon. I am trying to keep my nose to the grindstone so that the mirage-like spectre of moving does not overwhelm me. By week’s end, I will be like those giant Snoopy stuffed animals—you know, the ones whose necks could never quite support the weight of his head? I had one of those Snoopys. It was a sad day when I realized no amount of belts or scarves or ribbons could keep his goddamn head propped up.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Snoopy neck. I won’t be able to lift my head off my chest.

I think I need to take a break and make a fantasy vs. reality Christmas list.

3:03 p.m. - 2004-12-07



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