I should write a book about the interactions and observations that I have come to see as my day to day experiences in this place I call my home. I seem to be surrounded by primative substance dependent people who just about make it to work after binge drinking for 72 hrs straight.
I over heard my roommate on the phone last night telling someone that she was on her better behavior last weekend as she was drunk by 1pm instead of 11am as the weekend before. Who does that?
I'm tired and wish to God that I could sleep for a bit. As the day goes on and the afternoon becomes evening, I am reminded that the day is Thursday and it's likely that everyone is out for Happy Hour. Why are the words happy hour capitalized you ask? Because around here, its a holiday and as a rightfully earned as any other holiday, happy hour thursday is written in all caps.
Its the first sign of spring outside, I hear the ice cream truck roll around the block and recall the moments of my youth when it would wander the lonely streets of my home town in hopes that some lucky kid would have pursuaded their parents to give them 75 cents for a toasted almond. Today in the city, the truck as it turns the corner looks frightenly the same as it did back then, only now the cost is 4xs what it was then, and kids are hardened and their parents likely won't let them out the house after school let alone buy and ice cream from some scrubby looking guy in an ice cream truck.
Is it any wonder that people live for Thursday Happy Hour??
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shaken and not stirred :: There takes a great amount of diligence in the craft of being graceful and wise.
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