Took it easy yesterday. No sense stressing myself out just because it was a Monday. I worked slow and steady, careful about committing embarrassing mistakes. Tried and succeeded at not losing my cool at the creeps and cretins and assorted nobodies with delusions of grandeur that populate social media. And that was that. Monday came and went and another workweek was set in motion. I punched in and I punched out, silently, like a slithering snake.
And then I was at Booksale in Farmers Plaza rummaging through assorted worlds. Scored a Po Bronson title called The Nudist on the Late Shift for P50. Indeed, when gloomy, score a book. That has been my mantra. Screw money, screw the backlog.
Spent late night cleaning my bike, a leftover task from the weekend. Then I put a Feeder best-of album on the player and rocked ’til bedtime, which was past 1 a.m.
And then Tuesday came, November 8, and thanks to the Supreme Court, it will be a day that will forever live in infamy.
Playlist: Extreme – Pornograffitti; Darkthrone – Arctic Thunder; Obituary – Ten Thousand Ways to Die