"'THINK DIFFERENTLY,' he shouted, 'AND YOU WILL CHANGE THE WORLD.'"
No one heard him. ..."A single thought of ours could change the universe. We human beings are small things. Life is a great thing."
—Ben Okri: Dad
The Famished Road
Spring forward, and everything gets crazy.
Sunday, after an intensely fun bike ride, I ended up needing and taking an unplanned nap. One moment I was laying on my bed reading, and the next moment I was waking, completely unsure of whether I had slept for 2 hours or 24. My clock is am/pm challenged and indicated that it was 5:48am, though it seemed it had to be early evening. Because we hadn't yet sprung foward, it was impossible to tell from the light. I just didn't know if it was still, Saturday or if I'd pulled a modest Rip Van Winkle and slept through my Sunday. I ended up having to call Six to find out what day it was and was relieved to find I still had a Saturday night and entire Sunday to enjoy.
However, I woke up Sunday searching frantically for that lost hour. I have the feeling it won't turn up until October. Meanwhile what an odd Sunday it turned out to be. First I got simultaenous drop in visits by PBoss, Amber, and The Ron. I clearly wasn't expecting company, which was most apparent by the dirty socks and running clothes strewn around the room. We discussed the revamping of our band amidst a pile of panties and an empty pizza box. I felt like I was in a dorm room instead of my humble studio.
When the impromptu meeting was over, The Ron and I went grocery shopping at the 23rd and S. Van Ness Cala. What a nightmare that turned out to be. Far be it from me to be politically correct at all times, so I'll go ahead it say it: that store is ghetto. In fact, it's super ghetto. The prices are higher than at any local corner store and more importantly there's no visible management. When I noticed that the cheese was rotting on one shelf because that part of the refrigerator section wasn't working, I told a passing cashier who shrugged and suggested that it was defrosting. I asked her if it's supposed to defrost until the feta turns brown.
The entire time I grumbled and moaned, driving The Ron as crazy as I felt as we endured a three-year-old motor mouth who seemed to be standing next to me wherever I went. She was cute, and she was polite, asking her dad for this and that and thanking him profusely as she commented "oh this is great because it's my favorite and it tastes so good and i haven't had it in a long time because last time mom didn't buy it because she said that we had some at home but we didn't and she didn't believe me because she forgot but i don't think that she didn't want me to have it so thank you daddy, thank you daddy, thank you!!!!" Three aisles later I looked at The Ron and said, "just a glimpse of your future." His response: "fuck you." Oh it was insane.