Sunday, March 12, 2006

"I hear . . . drunk people."

BigCity's St. Patrick's Day parade was apparently yesterday (I was making croissants, and wouldn't have gone anyway), and it was unseasonably warm last night, so my neighborhood, which, because of the large number of bars in a small area, is often full of drunks early on a Saturday or Sunday morning, has been even drunker than usual. Craw had to get up at 4 to head to a conference (where he meets all of his new bosses and such), so we heard them then, and I hear them outside even now. (Usually most of them are home by 5 on a Sunday.) I would have enjoyed some additional sleep, especially since it's been in shorter supply lately, but I guess not.

I had some body work done yesterday--some Zen shiatsu, as a matter of fact, just like kStyle's work--and have decided I need to find a way to afford more of it. It's not cheap (and it shouldn't be), but that makes it beyond the range of my budget these days, at least on a regular basis. I'm pretty good with the delayed-gratification thing (you kind of have to be, if you're going to write a dissertation, say), but sometimes I think I'm a little TOO good at it.

The other thing I've delayed is cleaning the pit that is this apartment. Craw did some of it yesterday--cleaned the bathroom, for one thing, which had become one of the circles of hell, and did laundry, including the laundry of mine he found in my laundry basket (which wasn't a lot, but I truly appreciated the thought)--and I'm contemplating doing some cleaning now, even though it's 5 am on a Sunday morning. But I won't be going back to sleep any time soon, and I don't have to leave for yoga for three hours, so I might as well do something useful. Besides, I don't want to come home to a pit every day this week, you know?


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