Apr. 30th, 2006

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Rainy wet morning. Dragged myself out of bed quietly.

The traffic outside is louder than usual, aggressive in its Sunday morning business. I suspect the train will be even louder, its clacks and rattles keeping me awake. I might try to doze, anyhow.
entelein: (Default)
Today turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant day. Part of where I am at right now is trying to let go of things I can't help, and improve upon the things I can. Which means: stop freaking out about the pain in the ass of hauling all these blankets and bedsheets to the laundromat. Do tidy the living room and do some detailed cleaning, like taking lemon oil to the carved wooden leaves and flowers on that decorative stairpost my Dad salvaged from some old building before it was rehabbed. I attempted to re-hang a large print of Aristotle Contemplating a Bust of Homer yesterday, but the plaster has indeed proven too crappy for the cheap 20 lb. hooks I bought to deal with it. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, pop!, and suddenly the tiny gold nail is merely threaded through a thin layer of wall, rather than anchored. I need another person, and the proper tools. Time to invest in a cordless drill - the works, man. It's time. But, anyway. I was talking about letting go of these things.

So I woke up early this morning, regretting the alarm beep and the warmth of covers pulled over my head, pillows surrounding me like dreaming clouds who are murmuring, "just nine more minutes, only nine more minutes, just hit the snooze, no one will knooooooow," but I slipped on slippers and grabbed my bathrobe and attempted to gather my thoughts and my traveling accoutrements before heading out to the bus stop.

Normally, during the workweek, I will often go through an entire commute without a single significant interaction. After crossing the street, an older woman coming out her house asked me if it was raining.

"Nope! Just drizzling!" I reported, and then a few steps later, the spitting water got a little more intense. Stupid rain. Even though she and her grandson ended up at the same bus stop as me, I was relieved to see she had a poncho and an umbrella, anyhow. There were no dirty looks cast in my direction, at any rate. I hopped on the train and headed out to the 'burbs, finishing my journey with a quick coffee from the donut shop at the station. Cream and sugar, and then I tipped a buck into the jar, and was handed a free donut by the counter lady, which was sweet. On my way out of the turnstile and past the bus turnaround to wait for my mom a tall, handsome boy walked by, and I played The Smile Game. I not only got a return smile, but a "g'mornin'."

Mom and I drove directly from there to IKEA, arriving just in time for their $1.99 breakfast before the main store opened. That's really the way to do it on the weekends, by the way. Get there that early, get the decent parking spot (even if it's far away, you still get to choose, which makes all the difference), and get the hell out before all the late risers come in with their rambunctious, well-slept ways. I filled my cart with a new set of flatware, a couple small, solid frying pans, and random, extremely cheap kitchen utensils. Ah, new apron! Oh, lemon juicer! (Except that will definitely be a lime juicer, for all delicious mojitos in my immediate future). It was nice to do a methodical run of both main shopping levels with my mom. She's been coveting this $800 round bed she wants to put in one of the spare bedrooms of her house -- she used to have one, and the frame finally got so trashed and all that she gave it to my brother or something, I don't know. It no longer exists. So she laid down on the display one, and I grabbed another section, and we're looking up at the display ceiling in the fake IKEA bedroom, and she remarks, "Oh, I loved my round bed so much! Such good memories!" Drily, I said, "Yeah, I don't think I want to know," and she just grinned and said, "We're both old enough that we can talk about this stuff!" and I just laughed.

We got back to her house, and I worked on some software transition stuff she was having trouble with, and then we had a very satisfying lunch of chop suey in their newly-redone kitchen.

Just got a ride home, with a new (used) ottoman in tow. It's sort of a weird nesting mode I'm in right now, I suppose. Getting rid of old stuff, and getting useful, comforting stuff to make things easier, more streamlined, more economical, etc.

And now, I am off to rehearsal. Oy, what I wouldn't give for a nap.


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