"You look like a doily."

This week has been nutty.

We took Reed to the doctor on Wednesday; turns out he has the flu AND strep throat. Luckily he's on the mend now, and it's even possible that no one else in the house managed to catch any of his plague.

I went to meet a friend for a drink at Bottletree last night, and happened to see Those Darlins, and MAN, they are really good. So, so good. And Nikki Darlin gave me a free sticker! You can't beat that with a stick.

Tonight I am meeting my lawyer for a much-needed margarita. By "my lawyer", I mean Kristi. And by "much-needed", I mean FOR DAMN SURE, I NEED IT. I spend several days this week thinking maybe I was getting sick with whatever Reed has, but it never progressed, never turned into fever, body aches, total grossness. Finally I realized that I'm in some kind of slump. I hesitate to just say, "Okay, I'm depressed", because somehow this is different. I think it's probably a combination of moving, learning to live with my mom and my sister again, being unemployed and attempting to job search when I see listings for secretarial work that say "Must have ten years secretarial experience", and the time change that means it's dark by 5 every day.

Nevertheless, I have stumbled upon a few neat opportunities with writing and photography, and I'm hoping they pan out. Also I'm showing my jewelry at the Bottletree Craft Bazaar on December 5th, so if you're in Birmingham, come and check it out.

Anyways, the moral of this story is there is no moral to the story. There's no point to any of this. It's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know... a Quarter-Pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle... and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.

And now I'm quoting Troy Dyer. I think it's time to go.