I think it was screening my connection.
So I made an appointment with a private eye.
Then it came back from vacation; passport stamp and dirty laundry and sunburned.
And the Comcast private eye I had made an appointment with politely called and thanked me for my business but cancelled knowing I would soon be reconnected with my long lost Internet.
Then it came back from vacation; passport stamp and dirty laundry and sunburned.
And the Comcast private eye I had made an appointment with politely called and thanked me for my business but cancelled knowing I would soon be reconnected with my long lost Internet.
I love you, Internet. Please don't leave me again. I promise not to take you for granted.
(Well, that will catch you up on how my past five days have been)
I have this theory: Tuesdays suck.
My favorite day of the week is Monday. It's a brand new fresh start, a new beginning....a venture into the unknown. Tuesdays are both feet in, too far to turn back now -- but miles away from Friday. Nothing good happens on Tuesday.
For example, I have two bags of laundry that I had all intentions of doing on Sunday but ran out of quarters. Got quarters yesterday and then got home and chatted with my neighbor until it was time too late to start, no time to finish, the reality of the work week ahead setting in.....and I staggered to bed with the overwhelming depression that Tuesday was lurking only hours away. Woke up this morning feeling like I was being cracked out of delicate warm egg shell into a hot frying pan.
Didn't wash my hair. Forgot my Kleenex for the commute (the AC makes my nose run). Drank all my coffee before I got to my desk. Didn't leave my desk until seven o'clock at night - a tiring ten and a half hours sitting - got home and ate handfuls of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch. And now I'm sitting here reconnecting with you folks. It honestly wouldn't surprise me, the kind of things I experience on Tuesdays, if there really wasn't anyone reading.
My stomach hurts.
Ten hours at work, three hours of leisure, seven hours of sleep --- somehow that seems all kinds of wrong. I haven't had a true vacation since Calistoga, California four years ago. I have good intentions of doing something and no means. Or means and then no intentions. It's a vicious circle. Put my ass in a camp chair with a cup holder, a fire and a lake Michigan in front of me and call me stupid giddy.
Nothing poignant or well crafted tonight, just a girl sitting on her back stoop pleased that her internet is once again returning her calls and the Pandora is flowing like smoke from a tiki-torch. Have your best shot Tuesday, you've got thirty more minutes before I stop taking YOUR calls.
Wednesday, be kind to me. I've had my confidence tested and my intentions squashed by your nemesis, Tuesday.
No comments:
Post a Comment