Sunday, September 23, 2012


So here I am at the gig with a few minutes free and thinking I might write and post. Which I can do, except I cannot email anything.

So, I will revisit this, hopefully, tonight.

Now it is Friday night. Cooder is sprawled out at the end of bed. I have Family Guy on the tube. I'm waiting for an old friend, Marc S., to pick me up for dinner. I have been criminally sleepy today, and there is the ancillary stupidity to contend with. I hope he gets here pretty soon so that I don't fade any more.

This week was slow for me. The design boys were busy, although they had some frustrations as well. I was about to pull out my eyeballs, at least in part because I would like this gig to last awhile and I need to be productive and invaluable. Right now, I'm only under contract for twenty work days, but it could last longer.

Seattle is an adjustment. On Sunday night, after a long day of travel, I arrived in a completely burnt out state of mind. After some hassles, I made it into my room and set Cooder free. As it was late, I hurried out to a local deli/grocery so that I could get some kitty litter for her.

The store had pet food, but for awhile I could not find the litter. I guess I was a little too demanding for the store clerk, who seemed a bit off-put, if not overwhelmed by my many questions. Finally, kitty litter was secured, I bought some smoked salmon as a treat for the two of us (smoked fish is one of her favorites). Upon exiting, I requested a second plastic bag, thinking that it would suffice as a litter liner.

Evidently, that was the last straw. The portly cashier flew into a dance of exasperation, huffing and harrumphing and speed rapping (or what passes for that out here) about my asking for a second plastic bag. Turns out that plastic bags have been outlawed in this state and my request was one step beyond the pale.
Cooder enjoying the bathtub.

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