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Today is the middle of the week and there is an equal amount of early rushed mornings ahead of me as behind me. It is as good a day as any to cease pretending I am always diligent at work and start on this blog. Which I’ve attempted several times and then keep thinking better of. I now realise what motivation was missing before, sitting in an office all day makes a blog seem like a welcome release.
There are very few variations on a working day theme, I tend to eat drink and vegetate in the same three places for my conceptually flexible half hour lunch break, yesterday was much the same as usual except for my coffee break with Tiernan. My knee, as it is apt to do, dislocated outside work. What made this time slightly more memorable was 1) the fact that I was in work clothes and looked uber professional and so slightly odd for suddenly deciding to throw myself on the ground in front of a car and 2) this time I tried to save myself by grabbing Tiernan. I managed instead to inflict some pretty impressive damage on his arm and go down anyway. What is always frustrating is the strange looks I get from people when it happens. Next time I am going to go with it start rolling on the floor and wave my hands round my face gasping "the bugs the bugs".
Speaking of bugs, which I am, in our garden in mount pleasant a good couple of hundred red weavil like bugs keep congregating on our garden path in a massive orgy of… well I’m not sure, they don’t do much really except for move in a huge slow disparate mass of shapes and sizes. My flatmate has taken to throwing tennis balls at them and then muttering in disappointment as they squish and die, "I thought bugs were more resilient"
Last night, and this isn’t related, I came home at around 1am, I always get a bit freaked out assuming, not unwisely, that I could be mugged, or kidnapped or worse made over by some lurking stranger or reality tv crew. As a result I always cycle like the buggery to the door of my house and then jog up the stairs with my bike, or to be more accurate, stumble up out of breath sweaty and slightly in pain. (16th street is a bastard). Anyway, to start this paragraph again, last night one of the local cats was waiting for me. I haven’t been around animals for a while, I had loads of pets as a kid, and I still hold onto the delusion that if you hold eye contact with, and babble at, an animal for long enough that there will be some sort of connection that will probably improve your karma. So last night at 1am I sat on my porch throwing bits of salami to this cat following the above course of action. The only result was the cat sniffed the salami, licked it, decided delicatessan salami au poivre was beneath it, started washing and ignored both me and the rat that came out from behind the dustbins to grab the salami. What was disturbing was I made eye contact with the rat and I swear for a moment we had some sort of connection.
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