Friday

stump
Originally uploaded by mygothlaundry

I managed to walk the dogs every single morning this week for at least 30 minutes and it's embarrassing how proud I am of that. It's like my own little equivalent of getting a sports trophy or something - never having gotten anything resembling a sports trophy, how would I know? Every morning at the park it's gray and half rainy and muddy but getting greener day by day. The weird thing about this park is that it's supposedly a huge gay casual sex pick up spot and that's why there are often cars parked facing out with men just casually sitting in them alone. This is pure rumor, by the way. I have no idea if it's true. I pay them no mind whatsoever for the most part and they return the favor, although, while I have absolutely no problem with casual sex - hey! Sometimes it's exactly what ya need! Why not?! - I do find that I have a problem with casual sex at 7 am. I mean, sure, yeah, meet somebody at a bar at 2 am and go home with them or, hell, go to a nice nice dark alley with them, whatever; that makes total and complete sense to me. But to get up in the morning, have coffee and go pick up a stranger without neon lights, darkness and vast quantities of alcohol and drugs? What if they haven't even had coffee yet? I can barely find my shoes at 7 in the morning; the thought of trying to navigate my way through the thicket of casual sex at that time of day is mindblowing. Morning people, yargh: I cannot compute this aberration.

It's supposed to rain all weekend I think. Terrific - and I say that completely unironically. I want to stay home and read and occasionally stare broodingly out the window at streaks of gray and relentless rain. Also, it will give me an excuse not to mow the lawn. A currently has my lawnmower in Woodfin anyway, where her completely and totally psychotic soon to be ex landlady is giving her fits about everything under the sun. Renting can suck so bad sometimes, particularly when you're too young and inexperienced to spot the evil lunatics who so often own rental property. Sometimes, I swear you're better off with the scuzziest slumlords - at least you know they won't bother you continuously. Mental note: must, must, must get on that trying to buy a house thing again.