Friday, August 24, 2007
project 365 #235: smoke rings
In other news, I'm really glad it's Friday. It's seemed like a particularly long week; I don't know why, unless it's the heat. It feels like all I do lately is explain to people that this kind of endless heat is unusual for Asheville. I should tell them it's like this all summer, every summer, which, hey, given global climate change, it may be from now on and then perhaps they would move away and the housing market would crash and burn and lo, I might be able to afford to stay here. Like that's going to happen; of course, if it is going to be this hot all the time, fuck it, I don't want to live here anymore. This is ghastly. It's gruesome. It's horrible. And I'm tired of pouring sweat from every appropriately homophonic pore.
My horoscope this morning is scary: It's crucial that you keep your feet firmly planted on the ground today, for if you stop listening to your own practical advice, you find yourself in deep trouble. It might take a few days for this scenario to play out, as others may encourage you to do something that isn't in your best interest. Trust your common sense over anything anyone says. Deep trouble, huh? Not so good. My own practical advice? I might as well start gearing up for the trouble - I can hear myself now, fully into doomed last thoughts mode: "Maybe you don't need another beer. . . " "Perhaps it would be a bad idea to kiss this boy. . . " "You don't really need an $85 dress. . . " "You know that tequila shots are pretty much always really bad news. . . " "Leave that Amazon wishlist right there on the computer, don't buy anything. . . " "Don't blow your diet - big macs are evil . . ." Yeah. Send lawyers, guns and money now, okay? Beat the rush.