Kathy I'm lost, I said
Hoo boy. Had a good lunch at Titletown, where I had the pleasure of drinking the 'Bridge-Out Stout.' It's like Guinness all grown up. (Or as it should be, more likely, in the Irish way.) The chocolate-thick malt measures tricked me into ordering another; upon standing to leave, I realized that that was a sorry mistake. Yet here I am, back at the office, typing away in Excel and rearranging the schedules that I've been charged with rearranging. As for being covert, I doubt it. This isn't a vodka situation--supposedly, alcoholics drink vodka because it doesn't leave any smell on the breath. They are wrong in that faith.
Regardless.
The accountant's two children were killed in a car accident on Monday. His wife was airlifted from the scene to the Marshfield megahospital, where she went in for surgery at noon today. The accountant is back at work, paying bills and talking nonchalantly about what needs to be done and how he intends to do it. He is still in shock. Some people are complaining about this, saying he should be a puddle of ooze and grief on the floor somewhere, but I know better than to question anyone's reaction to anything.
Right now, I'd like a visitor. Someone to come walk these streets with me, dull as they may be, and allow me to explain the layout of this sprawling city. Show them my favorite alley, and tell the story of the mischievous cop and his onk-onk horn. Green Bay refuses to grow up; instead, it grows out. There is a new boardwalk deal that has just been closed, a "world-class boardwalk" deal no less. Considering that it will border the Fox River, I wonder if the number of mutations among residents will correspond positively with the number of citizens who walk it. On a long enough timeline, everyone grows a third arm.
(Or leg.)
Regardless.
The accountant's two children were killed in a car accident on Monday. His wife was airlifted from the scene to the Marshfield megahospital, where she went in for surgery at noon today. The accountant is back at work, paying bills and talking nonchalantly about what needs to be done and how he intends to do it. He is still in shock. Some people are complaining about this, saying he should be a puddle of ooze and grief on the floor somewhere, but I know better than to question anyone's reaction to anything.
Right now, I'd like a visitor. Someone to come walk these streets with me, dull as they may be, and allow me to explain the layout of this sprawling city. Show them my favorite alley, and tell the story of the mischievous cop and his onk-onk horn. Green Bay refuses to grow up; instead, it grows out. There is a new boardwalk deal that has just been closed, a "world-class boardwalk" deal no less. Considering that it will border the Fox River, I wonder if the number of mutations among residents will correspond positively with the number of citizens who walk it. On a long enough timeline, everyone grows a third arm.
(Or leg.)