03.28.07
‘The prisoner wishes to say a word…’
LAST WEEK OF THE professional toe-jam.
Two days left.
Night shift.
At least the replacements are trying to absorb the workload - albeit slowly and unassuredly, leaving my and my fellow proles to observe, make suggestions and bail out the poor fuckers when they get flustered…
The Muse emailed me yesterday - wanting to grab a drink, and since it was so seasonable, outside was mandatory. My first (and usually only) choice is, of course, The Pub, so we met there, a couple of her co-workers in tow…
Ahh, the joys of the outdoor cafe, watching the world go by - dog walking, people on cell phones, first spray of color showing on the trees, people watching people, and of course, with the warmth: the shedding of clothes.
I swear the guy who invented tank tops for women should be given a Nobel prize, the Presidential Medal of Honor, money and a National Holiday. It was (and is) the greatest invention of all time, better than the automobile, Tivo, and two for one drinks at the bar. Nothing in this world has given me more joy, more smiles than the simple cotton ribbed tank top…
Especially spaghetti strap ones.
Sigh.
Anyway, it was an absolute joy waking to the knowledge that I never, ever need to get up at 5 AM to come here again. I slept in late, made a damn good breakfast (garlic and rosemary potatoes with eggs scrambled with andouille sausage and brie) checked the headlines and took a nap…
Damn, I could get used to this…
