THOUGHTS ABOUT MARIN

What we learned from not getting enough sleep is that nearly eighteen hours later one turns into a werewolf. This has nothing to do with the moon, and nearly everything to do with the fact that the body is no longer as limber and coordinated as it once was. And after a long day one is necessarily clumsy and grumpy. I will admit that I am not always a sunny person.

Fortunately my apartment mate is Asperger's blessed, and consequently doesn't register stuff like this unless I spell it out for her. Which, being a fairly smart fellow keenly aware of the impact that that would have, I don't.

Somewhere in this teevee room where the computers are is a pack of cigarettes I lost in frustration over pockets and fingers not working in perfect tandem or synch. Don't ask.

I'll probably find them when I might least expect to.
It's not like there's a shortage of cigarettes.
Boyscouts ALWAYS have smokes.

What that statement could mean is that for people who have run out of cigarettes at three in the morning it is advisable to go out onto the street and waylay a passing Boyscout. Trust me on this. Given a choice between Girlscout, Brownie, Boyscout, Cubscout, or off-duty Marine, go for the Boyscout. They're "prepared". The army teaches you that.

Sometimes the physical coordination leaves a bit to be desired. At times like that I should probably not operate heavy machinery near a grammar school or old folks home. I have no idea what happened to that softpack of ciggies. And getting down on the floor to see if they were visible from that angle was a mistake. In tight spaces it can be hard to get back up.

Good thing that she was in her room and could not see me scooching toward an open area, trying to find a horizontal edge or surface for a semblance of leverage.

The picture above is an imaginary lunch. I work in Marin amidst troglodytes, cannibals, and suburbanites, so that isn't going to happen.


In an ideal universe it would. In an ideal universe I would also be more physically limber and hale, and there would be much more space in the teevee room to mislay things in.
Not just cigarettes.

Naturally, because I won't take personal resposibility for any of this, I blame suburbanites.
They're also to blame for the Microsoft meltdown and the FAA thing.
That this is NOT an ideal universe is their fault.



Trogburban cannibals.



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