Sleepy Sunday Equals Manic Monday

Song in my head this morning: the Plimsouls’ “A Million Miles Away” which is so eighties and so completely from that dark moment of my life when I moved in with my grandmother and infant daughter that I recall clearly feeling young and lost and as if time passed me by. Startling how little changes with the passage of twenty years.

Paulie’s gone to the bank. The sky’s gray and over the city hangs a stillness even a slight breeze does not disturb. Larry sleeps on a bag of Paulie’s snakeskin swatches he’s using to reupholster his car. The bag is large and Larry has declared himself king of it. Paulie returns and collects scraps from the floor. Yesterday, when he got up I was watching a National Geographic channel show about an AeroPeru plane crash. Later, I watched a new show about the state of Titanic’s structural integrity. I can’t resist the forensic examination of a human disaster. Or sharks. I can’t resist sharks. They’re bitey.

And speaking of bitey, the dryer buzzer went off. Must fold, must fold.

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