Priorities
I definitely need to stop reading in the post-apocalypse genre for a little while. Had a bizarrely terrible dream this morning:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Was living in some sort of camp with a man who was sort of Chip, but not really. He was working as a spy for the church, which was the only remaining institution on earth.
We lived in the remains of a house. I ventured out to use the bathroom, and kept stumbling over other people's makeshift shelters. Could not find privacy.
Back at "home," I'm drinking rainwater out of a bucket and I turn to Chip and say, "What I wouldn't do for a glass of wine!" To which he replies, "There is no way I'd let myself get fucked up in this place."
"Just one glass!" I say, softly. "Yeah, don't hold your breath."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wake up very distressed at the thought of a world in ruin, without wine.
It's nice to know what really matters.
Today will be loud, as the demolition of the house next door continues. Thunderstorms and flash floods in the forecast. I hear it is hot in other parts of the country. I'd like to be a refugee there.
In other unrelated news: turned the fitness corner? Got out of bed at 6:30, made carrot juice. Actually want to swim/bike/run. I thought this feeling was as mythological as unicorns.
p.s. Never, ever, ever stand on a scale. I did the other day, and I won't be making that mistake again. When I rule the universe, scales will be outlawed, and replaced by that pair of pants that makes your ass look great. Those pants are a damn fine judge of fitness, the scale is not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Was living in some sort of camp with a man who was sort of Chip, but not really. He was working as a spy for the church, which was the only remaining institution on earth.
We lived in the remains of a house. I ventured out to use the bathroom, and kept stumbling over other people's makeshift shelters. Could not find privacy.
Back at "home," I'm drinking rainwater out of a bucket and I turn to Chip and say, "What I wouldn't do for a glass of wine!" To which he replies, "There is no way I'd let myself get fucked up in this place."
"Just one glass!" I say, softly. "Yeah, don't hold your breath."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wake up very distressed at the thought of a world in ruin, without wine.
It's nice to know what really matters.
Today will be loud, as the demolition of the house next door continues. Thunderstorms and flash floods in the forecast. I hear it is hot in other parts of the country. I'd like to be a refugee there.
In other unrelated news: turned the fitness corner? Got out of bed at 6:30, made carrot juice. Actually want to swim/bike/run. I thought this feeling was as mythological as unicorns.
p.s. Never, ever, ever stand on a scale. I did the other day, and I won't be making that mistake again. When I rule the universe, scales will be outlawed, and replaced by that pair of pants that makes your ass look great. Those pants are a damn fine judge of fitness, the scale is not.