It rained again. A light drizzle at first until the clouds seemed to burst open and let it all out. The day drowning, as it seemed.
Just stopped now, though.
Smells and looks fresh and clean again after a grueling weekend of thinking, muddling the brain, alternatively muddling everything else perceived.
I had bought myself some new books as consolation to whatever, two of which are written by Kathy Reichs. I have started yet another collection of a new favorite author and is bound to be in and out of the bookstore quite more often than usual, seeming it being a popular author and all. The other collection concerns the writer Terry Pratchett and the other John Sandford with his Prey-series, which are quite good, in fact. Oh yes, and Harlan Coben. Must. Not. Forget. Bought a bound collection of Garfield comics, as well. Always wanted one. I’m always on the lookout for the Asterix & Obelix comic series, as well, but never find any . . .
Went to visit two friends of mine I haven’t seen in a long time; had some drinks and some laughs. Went home the following day, hung over and dying of heartburn; luckily with my books intact and not forgotten.
We had this great lunch yesterday. Some magical place with a huge collection of indigenous plants for sale, and peacocks and chickens and cats prowling around each other beneath the dining tables. It was quite nice, what with everyone throwing them some pieces of bread or lettuce and a small helping of tuna and mayo for this really beautiful Tomcat.
Slept in this morning, went to the shops and got myself some delicious high protein snack bars at Woolworths, all the while suffering this blasted coughing to frustrate me even more.
And all it comes down to is the rain, the expectation of something new that hangs over your shoulder just as it stops, but this time something other than you hoped? I saw a guy today, late fifties, no doubt, and he had this chest on him that would make Dolly Parton cry with shame. Definitely had some work done, I’m sure. Wrong choice of doctor, I’d imagine. Whatever the case, he probably likes it. Plastic makes him feel more manly, hey. And it’s quiet. Outside, inside, does not matter, it’s quiet. Strange, but nice. Fewer people in the vicinity.
Have a great day otherwise . . .