Endless Thursday. My desk faces a picture window overlooking the city, shining against the morning sun. The highway flows like a vein across it. My inbox is empty, I am not going to hurl any messages into the darkness. I roll through my usual list of sites to make sure all is right in the world, dig through my empty lunch bag, look sadly at the squashed boca burger in my purse, scribble ideas for a graphic novel on a scrap of PostIt, then get back to work. Thursday...
Yesterday seems like a long time ago. After nibbling a square of fancy chocolate while jotting down notes on the library staff meeting I was in, I sat at Volcano Joe's and watched Gavin snore on the cafe couch. My mother and I drank tea and coffee, watching the college kids and trying to figure out where they were all from. After an hour, we stuffed the sleeping boy into his car seat and drove home with a roast chicken in the trunk for dinner. Mike and I left for dancing alone. The RSCDS planned a party on the same day as my birthday (but not for my birthday), and I haven't decided whether we'll be bringing 26 slices of cheesecake or 26 mini bottles of single-malt whiskey.
... oh no, it's still Thursday.
I vote for a cake and 26 mini bottles of single-malt whiskey.
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