So, I woke up this morning at 10.30a, all happy because that meant that I would get my breakfast at McDonald's, left the house at 10.43 for the five minute walk, got there and confidently ordered breakfast, only to be told that it was lunch.

ME
What do you mean it's lunch?

WAGE SLAVE
It's 11a.

ME
It is not either 11a.

WAGE SLAVE
(showing me his watch)
See? It's 11a, it's lunchtime!

ME
Well, your watch is fast, because I left my house at a quarter to eleven, and I only live five minutes away!

I ended up getting my breakfast. It must have been the steely glare and icy tone of a woman who didn't get her breakfast because of their damn fast clocks both days last weekend. They got the last laugh, however, because they put cheese on the damn sausage biscuit. To punish me, I assume.

Sometimes I think that I am the only person in Weehawken who eats plain sausage biscuits, since I have to practically throw myself over the counter to stop them from putting egg on it, and then they sneak cheese on it the moment that my back is turned. Bastards.

In McDonald's, I was standing there as the Wage Slave made me some fresh hash browns, and I suddenly realized that I could smell cat piss. "Man, this McDonald's sure smells like cat piss," I thought, "I wonder why? There is no reason for a McDonald's to smell like cat piss, and yet that is certainly what I smell. This is most unsanitary!"

Of course, it then occurred to me that it were alot more likely for the smell to be coming from, say, the clothes that I picked up off the floor without really examining closely. When I got home, I stripped to the skin and put everything in the wash without checking to see if it really was me who did the smelling.

Because if I don't know for certain, you see, I just might be able to believe, if I try very very hard, that it was the McDonald's after all. Don't burst my bubble!

Walking the three blocks between my house and McDonald's, either or not wafting the beguiling scent of cat piss, I passed about twenty flyers for five different garage/yard/moving sales happening today, including the one right across the street from my house.

Apparently, today was Official Get Rid of Your Crap Day in Weehawken. I didn't get notified, me. It's not as though I don't have plenty of crap!

Listening to John Prine sing "Hello In There". This is without question my least favourite song ever written, as it sends me into a bleak depression after hearing only a couple of notes of it.

I react similarly to "Old Friends" by Simon and Garfunkel, and that song from Working that Charles Durning sang in the TV version, so it seems that any songs about sad old lonely people are the ones for me to avoid at all costs if I don't want to be awash in tears.

What song automatically makes you cry?

And Mechaieh wants to know, in re my entry about my father, What are your touchstones/memory-triggers? And I would like to add that Mechaieh posed that question a week ago, but since Greenspun isn't sending out mail alerts these days, I didn't know until now.

Today's horoscope:
Sparkle time! You play the role of entertainer or persuader. Seek out fun people to feed your magnetic style.

One year ago today:
(forgive me for not remembering every little detail--you know, like the actual subject of our conversation)

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Last Updated Sun 29 July 00:44:09 2001