Next week I’m going here for four days, with some co-workers, to pick up a few dogs and bring them back to our shelter for adoption. Utah in the summer, time to break out the shorts. It’ll certainly rank up there with the most interesting and sweaty business trip I’ve ever had (wait…I’ve never been on a business trip). Provided I’m not too exhausted, I’ll keep you updated. I had to pass a little company driving test today, navigating this 20-ft van around Potrero Hill so that I’ll be cleared to drive next week.
Quiet, non-creative mood today. Planning on going to my friend’s memorial service tonight. It felt crass to ask his co-worker if he’d be my barber now that Paul’s gone, but as he put it, “hey, you need a barber.” I do. I’m compulsive about my head. I never go more than three weeks without a haircut, and usually it’s closer to two. What the hell, it’s cheaper than therapy.
My problems lately could be classified as the luxury type, I suppose. My life fills up so quickly I’ve had to start saying no to things; three requests for housesitting over the same one-week period. Good friends I haven’t spoken to in days. Dinners out. Boys? Well, no. That’s on its way, maybe
Have been confused and frankly speechless over the layers of irony and happenstance surrounding my unresolved attraction to Ski lately. Remember when I wrote that on old friend of mine surfaced after five years; the friend from my past who seemed to have a charmed life and who became the object of my jealousy back then, mainly due to his physical appearance and the attention he received? Well, I mentioned that he ended up in a local treatment center, but it wasn’t until later that week that I connected the dots and realized that he’s staying at the treatment center where Ski works. I ran into my old friend at a meeting recently and he said “…isn’t Ski beautiful? God!”
My heart fluttered, rose into my throat and then fell again.
“Yeah”, I said, “he is, isn’t he?”