or: drink, drink, type, type
22 pairs of shoes (hot pink kitten heeled thongs, boots, sandals, runners, mary-janes) slung over the western pedestrian part of highlevel bridge. why?
1 silver haired grandma downing a glass of wine at milan's. this senior citizen sure was thirsty. you go, grandma!
7 minutes to collect rent from parental tenant. tenant seemed not to recognize me, even when i used special code words like "collect" and "rent." same tenant personally phoned me yesterday to let me know i could come and collect rent today. huh?
45 minutes walk to whyte avenue
47 minutes walk back home (2 extra minutes to count shoes - i counted them extra slow an' careful-like)
19 minutes spent wondering why whyte avenue residents don't gather up their rusty pitchforks and rustle up a vigilante posse. a few beatings administered with surgical precision and the bar violence will shift back to west edmonton mall where it belongs. backwards-baseball-cap-wearing yahoos, load your buxom trixies into the pick-up truck and go drink elsewhere!
countless hours spent waiting for mister monkey who is out drinking with "the boys." come to think of it, i assume he's out drinking with the boys. perhaps he's out drinking with a bunch of teenage hookers in some crack house in sherwood park, in which case i shall be sharpening my very own pitchfork (after all, what's vigilante justice without a pitchfork?).
8.5 hours spent working today. here's a suggestion to all you...ahem...delicate patients out there. if you are going to make "ouch" faces, it might be a good idea to wait with them until i am actually touching you. they are far more effective that way. just a thought. although the melodrama is always amusing and helps while away the long hours.
1 glass of wine consumed before and during writing. i can so multitask!