Tuesday (technically)
It’s 1am and I’m bouncing back from an email application screwup. I almost switched to Entourage, but Eudora came back from the dead. My tacos were better than ever. But I am obviously going to run out of shells and maybe lettuce. I have tacos for the week (along with other things). Need Cremini mushrooms, too, for the tofu scrambles, but I can wing it without them somehow.
I care, and I don’t care; it’s like that. I lost a huge filling, right in the front, on a soft taco; what next, eh? I’ve still got at least three more teeth than Keith Richards, so we’ll play the cards we’re dealt and see what happens.
I reached Doug, the landlord, and we’re set for Thursday. Tomorrow (I mean, later today) I’m riding the bike over to the shop, and it goes bye-bye to California. Things are winding down nicely, it looks like.
I’m not too sure what I’ll do for the last 36 hours or so after I have sent the last boxes, which will include all of the cooking gear. Maybe the wok, one bowl, some aluminum foil and the coffee maker will stay here. Whatever, it’s only a few days of soups or tacos and pancakes.
The pancakes weren’t helped by the use of peanut oil, and not having the Earth Balance margarine/butter like spread isn’t helping, but it’s for a good cause. Running out of coffee filters, too, but I hear that toilet paper works fine … word on the street is, “go with the twin-ply.” I told a friend that I was going to run out of coffee filters in a day or so, and she asked, “Do you have toilet paper?”
I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but figured she was giving me one of those “it-could-be-worse” pep talks that people are so fond of. So I said yeah, I do, don’t worry, that end’s covered. And that’s where the utilitarian aspect of the tissue came into play.
So I’m having a nice black & sugar coffee and getting ready to continue uploading Season 2, Episode 8, of my favorite TV series, Breaking Bad, into the swarm on The Pirate Bay. And while that’s happening I’ll drink coffee and watch the very same episode. Then off to the sack, sleep, wake up and it’s Tuesday, for real.