Raspberry Cupboard
Tomorrow I move into my new house.
I haven't written in over a week, and I'm sorry. I apologize to myself.
After Modest Mouse I should have talked about how three friends from college came to have dinner with me and to see Danielson Famile play.
I should have discussed my manic frustration that following Sunday as I lifted weights in the gym to feel some numbness.
Monday gave me something I really should have mentioned: my meeting with my chair - Stuart - where we went over my funding options for the fall.
The evening involved shoppting with Ashely, and dinner, then beer and pool with physicists.
Tuesday I could have told you about how I met with the administrators of a day-care center where I'll be doing a study on four and five-year-olds.
Wednesday I did laundry and cooked a big pot of split-pea soup. Even the chicken stock was home-made. It's to die for.
Thursday night I sang karaoke. I should have mentioned about my singing Crocodile Rock for the first time. I certainly should have mentioned how Jason told me about his girlfriend's drinking problem. And how I'll probably never see Jason again.
Friday I did nothing. But I could have told you about Ashley's mother falling and breaking her hip. It sort of put a damper on the whole weekend.
Saturday I could have at least mentioned the sun-burn I got on my boobs out by the lake, if not also then mentioning the keg-party. My pinata was a big hit (da-dum-ch!).
Sunday - not dissimilar to the previous Sunday in which I had also failed to write - I came near-tears with anxiety.
I guess I should have at least told you all about how I'm being strung along about my funding for the fall.
Or I could have sat and mused about how infatuated I am with the Mini Cooper convertable.
I move tomorrow, and then on Monday I go to see Mike.
Maybe the age of the blog is ending and I ought to resume the paper book. My gold-membership expires in a month. I shall decide then.
I can back up all these pages on a disk and decided then.
