Hands
On the one hand, I turn 28 today. On the other hand, I'm in the best place I've ever been, life-wise.
On the one hand, I missed work yesterday to fight the Transit Adjudication folks because someone gave them my info when fare-jumping on the subway (in stations I've never used) only to be turned away and told to come back another day. On the other hand, I may very well have gotten a new, nice 3 Bedroom apartment last night.
On the one hand, it turns out Lisa didn't get food poisoning. On the other hand, it must have been a virus because now I'm running to the bathroom every five minutes.
On the one hand, I have a couple of great things coming up for my class (we're going to publish our fiction through lulu.com and we're going to do a very high-level poetry unit involving T.S. Eliot, Shakespear, Richard Brautigan, Langston Hughs, and maybe more). On the other hand, I've missed two days of school in a row for stupid things I hate doing.
On the one hand, my birthday party was kind of fun and Lisa looked great and I liked my gifts. On the other hand, I'm getting too damn old for that stuff and ended up (again) not being able to talk to the people I really wanted to talk to.
On the one hand, I'm getting good notes back on my book. On the other hand, my folks are sending me a new computer so I'm reluctant to do a whole lot of work on it before that, and then I move, and then . . .there's always something.
Anyway, that's my life. It's much better than it sounds right now, but it is hard to be enthusiastic with diarrhea and nausea competing to see who can kick my ass hardest.
posted by Mr. Rice @ 8:48 AM
5 comments
5 Comments:
You sure do have a lot of hands. I count 12. That must be... handy.
Happy Birthday!
-- Eydie
If someone's giving them your information, it must be someone you know, right? Looks like you might have found an arch-nemesis...
Joe, I had a virus like that a couple years ago. I got severly dehydrated and ended up in the emergency room. Be careful.
Also: no review of ASS #2?
I'll say this: no runny poo since I read ASS #2. It's a miracle cure.
This begs the question, was I one of the poeple at the party you really wanted to talk to but didn't talk to enough? Or was I one of the people who was keeping you from the people you really wanted to talk to. We talked a fair amount, not too much, not too little, but I'm now having a crisis of ego as I try to figure out where I rank on the "people Joe wants to talk to meter."
Jackass.
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