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Loading ...I thought we’d put Morrissey in the blender, so why am I quoting him in the title? Because lately its been true. Every day I wake up feeling like its still the weekend. There’s a certain ennui that has blanketed the past few days. Its been like sunday, and though Sundays are great, they’re great because they only happen once a week. Any more than that, it gets old.
Nobody wants to do anything on Sunday, especially me, but the tasks are piling up. I have to make some small test-batches of my soaps (which Mojo and R the P will be testing, I hope they know). I’m trying not to think beyond the first step - if I do I’ll go crazy. But there’s tons to do.
I also still need to redesign Noumenal News. Its showing major signs of growth, and I can’t help but feel that a faster-loading, more ‘news-like’ website would draw more traffic.
Cleto has been getting in the habit of waking me up between 6-7 am every morning. Thanks Cleto.
Buy me a beer!
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This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 27th, 2007 at 8:59 am and is filed under animal, criminal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
In the cheerful words of Mssr Morrissey:
*************
Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon - come Armageddon!
Come, Armageddon! Come!
Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Hide on the promenade
Etch a postcard :
“How I Dearly Wish I Was Not Here”
In the seaside town
…that they forgot to bomb
Come, Come, Come - nuclear bomb
Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Trudging back over pebbles and sand
And a strange dust lands on your hands
(And on your face…
(On your face …
(On your face …
(On your face …
Everyday is like Sunday
“Win Yourself A Cheap Tray”
Share some greased tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey
*************
What a happy guy!
Morrissey aside, I think that Richard begins to feel like every day is the weekend when he stays home, as he has been doing until Monday. I can’t speak for him, but I get that impression. Fun!
It’s always good to have something to do, even if it feels like Sunday. I certainly remember the dull dreary deadness that was post-church on Sundays. Thanks gods church has been a non-event for me for about 20 years now (hurrah!). I related to that Morrissey song in college because of that Sunday afternoon experience growing up. And that brings us full circle back to Morrissey.
I remember a friend of mine was all excited about having attended a Morrissey concert the night before. “He held my hand!”, she said.
“He needs to hold somebody’s hand”, I said.
My ex was a fan. Well of course he was - we’re talking about a man who used to sit in the dark, drink wine, and cry. Of course he liked Morrissey.
Oh hey, look, big-bush Mercury.
But normally, even though I work at home, weekends still have a distinctly different feel for me.
I too, used to hate Sundays. Sundays were awful - church, then boredom. There was never anything on TV. The only good Sundays were when we went to my grandma’s house for one of our big family hodowns.
As I grew, I grew to appreciate a day to do nothing. And Sunday became a favorite day. But only if it happens just once a week. Sometimes you just gotta do more than nuthin’.
This has nothing to do with Morrissey, mainly because I like to have nothing to do with Morrissey, but I have to share a sad thing.
At work, I have to use internet explorer.
I just cannot believe the unfortunateness.
Oh dear god no! You gave up your b-berry for IE? Its unfathomable.
I know. I mean, I had to make the change, but I had no idea there would be such dire consequences.
So good looking lawyers with a hollow leg (take that alcoholic reference from the 1920s!) are what we want. We never drank with our lawyer but (very gay moment coming!) Mojo and she exchanged recipes! I know it isn’t as exciting as falling on R the Other, but it is what happened!
Well, Mojo is telling me that we need to get some chicken from Popeye’s (it is all poor Puss will eat now that every bit of commercial catfood has been poisoned in China).
My one moment on Shattered Prayer (since I no longer can check it on, ahem, internet explorer at work) and I have to get some chicken.
It is, however, damned delicious chicken.
What are you going on about R the P? Shouldn’t that comment go on the other post?
hehe.
Mmmmmm…. popeyes.
Yeah I have to go get supper too. And I think my mom wants me to bake a chess pie.
“I bought some buttermilk”, she said.
“Oh really? Why?”
“I thought you might like to make one a them chess pies”.
Ah… she thought I might like to.
That is really weird. When I looked, *your* comment was here on the wrong place! I thought that was odd, so I answered where you answered, but now your comment is in the right place, but mine is in the wrong one.
Spooky.
Ghost in the machine.
Or in the SP.
I blame the judge.
Oh. And the Popeye’s was delicious. Puss almost took my hand off before I could set her plate down!
Sleepy now.
SP definitely has ghosts. But it also has an admin who moves her own comments to the right place, but leaves yours, thereby making you look foolish and inattentive. When it is truly she who is the foolish and inattentive one. But what can ya do?
Nothing! thats what. Because I am the admin and I rule this place. Rule, I say!
Bwa-ha-ha-ha!
When I was young, I thought that we people said, “You will rue the day you ever met me.” That they were saying “You will rule the day you ever met me.”
Which, of course, completely changes the meaning of their sentence and the tone of the statement.
I also thought that the phrase “on purpose” meant “accidental.”
That cause no end of confusion in our house and probably contributed to my cynical world view.
I mean, why was I being punished? I told them I did it on purpose!