November 12, 2008
Busy, Busy, Busy
Originally PUBLISHED December 13, 2005
I watched the Atlanta Falcons lay a good, old-fashioned ass-whuppin' on the New Orleans Saints last night. I just hope Michael Vick isn't seriously injured. The Birds need to run the table with the rest of their schedule to make the playoffs.
After the game, I went to bed. I couldn't sleep, so I got up after 30 minutes of trying. I washed two loads of laundry and put fresh sheets on the bed. Nope. Clean sheets weren't the answer.
I went for a walk at 3:30 AM. The stars were beautiful, very bright in the winter sky. The Christmas lights on the houses were pretty, too. Christmas always was a big deal in my family, with everybody getting together at Daddy and Mama's house, where Santa always came, even after I was grown with children of my own. It was our Big Holiday.
Hell--- I don't bother to put up a tree anymore.
Where I live, a lot of dogs stay outside. They don't like it when someone comes walking down the street at 3:30 AM. I think I was threatened and cussed-out by at least 20 different dogs last night, but none of them tried to bite a chunk out of my ass and nobody turned on a porch light and opened the front door to brandish a shotgun at me. I had a pleasant walk.
When I got back home, I vacuumed my carpet and cleaned the grime off all the inside doors. The giant beer mug I use as a spare change collector was almost full, so I rolled up most of the coins and put them in the grocery bag that I keep meaning to take to the bank some day. I now have $143.50 worth of change in there.
I finally slept from around 6:00 until 7:30. I got up (again), washed myself and load of dirty dishes, then checked a few of my favorite blogs. I still didn't feel like writing, so I ate a lumberjack breakfast, filled up a bucket with bleach-water, armed myself with a long-handled brush and started scrubbing all the mold and mildew off the outside of the Crackerbox.
Man. That's going to be more than a one-day job. Besides, it's almost time to drive to Statesboro (again) for another Stay Sober meeting. I should get back home about 8:30 tonight. I wonder if I can trim hedges by the glow of my porch light?
Oh, well. Idle hands are the Devil's playthings.
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