under the strain i found myself really outraged that the city hadn't dumped my trash into the trash truck sunday night. i knew they'd gotten others, as my neighbors'd been piled high enough that the lid wouldn't shut. i left it out there all day anyway, on the off chance that they'd swoop back around. now when i drop a fresh baggie of dog poop into the bin i remember the rage of helplessness that came up in me about the damned trash.
in better spirits i might see some blessing of the universe, or at least a mysterious message, in the seemingly mistaken shipment from amazon.com, which sent me a few things recently that i actually ordered (including a new case for my old phone) (cases for outdated iphone models are cheap now, and can make your old phone feel new-ish again) (this is my third case) but also, who knows why, a box with 2 CDs in it: the new Tony Bennett duets and a Barbra Streisand. A compilation, I think. Thick.
Could they possibly be a gift? From whom? If it's a mistake, was there a demographic element to the mistake, and if so boy am I old, no wonder I'm in pain all the time.
please gawd let's have some relatively uninterrupted unconsciousness tonight, followed by consciousness at some point. i know better than to ask for waking up in fine fiddle. it's like how you don't just put on your rally cap all the time. you gotta be a little bit realistic.