Friday, February 22

Late. . .Again

It's dawned on me that most towns have their own soundtracks. New York is an ecletic symphony, New Orleans most definetely Jazz, and Reno. . .well, Reno is cheesy '80s and early '90s music delivered over bad speakers outside casinos and in parking lots. It's a go home, sit in your underwear, drink cheap red wine and eat Doritos while singing along to Eric Carmen kind of town. "Never gonna fall in love again. . .

Can't really keep up with this page, the job, the commute and the on-going health problems. Hopefully we will soon have enough cash to splurge on a used laptop that we can commute/pute from home on, but until then I'm hostage to the local university and public library schedules. I'm not complaining, however. Beats no connectivity at all.

Took stock this last week and realized things aren't that bad. Employed. Housed. Clothed. Fed. Just get over this lingering illness thing and I'll be set. For the moment. So much has happened that when no shoes hits the floor for a while I just sit and wait for one to fall.