Monday, February 25, 2019

DAMP SQUIB

Apparently the Oscars were held last night. No one yesterday even mentioned this, so being the hip with it all and up to date kind of guy I am, I had no idea. Though I was wondering why the traffic was so light when I got back to the city. I will probably never watch any of the movies. My apartment mate did not talk about the Oscars, or the films that were in the running, and as she is the only person in this apartment likely to borrow or rent flicks, it is highly unlikely that I will be exposed to any of this year's Oscar stuff. If you were to ask me who won what, or what got nominated, I couldn't tell you.
None of this has been discussed in my vicinity.


Conversations yesterday dealt with prostates, audits, pipe brands and famous tobacco blends, the allegation that I am prematurely gaga, what happened to the last four scrumptious mini fudge brownies, how to operate the new coffee machine, and the peanut-butter cookies that Neil made.

And the prospect of torrential rain bucketing down this Tuesday and Wednesday, which are my days off.

There may be flooding in low-lying areas. As I live safely uphill from the intersection, I am not too concerned. In principle I like rainy days, especially when I am safely indoors, perhaps only venturing outside briefly to smoke on the steps. If the waters rise, it will likely go no further than the garbage can on the corner, down the block.



Watching the waters rise, from a safe dry portico, is more intellectually thrilling than watching the Academy Awards on the boob tube, and the rain is infinitely more satisfying as a spectacle than any number of celebrities poncing on red carpets.


In between smokes, I'll probably spend a lot of time in bed, though fully clothed, reading comic books. It is warm, and there are stuffed animals.



Those of you with Monday to Friday jobs may want to play hooky.



I've got more than enough food and tea to last a while.




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