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I just said, "Rabbit, rabbit." It's hard for me to believe that today is the first day of March. Where did those first two months go. Letting the days go by. I think that time has a tendency to fly past when I let it be that way. I wonder why I don't have an agenda most days. It's because I've lost the will to live. I should be dead already. Pretty soon I'm going to be dead. I wonder how many more years I have before my expiration date. I think about death way too much but that's life.
Barbecue day with Lady D and Maylee. We invited them, but it will be the last time. They were rude and distant and we ain't got time for that. Isora is mental about the house across the street. Raoul is just treading water like me and Scott drinks like there's no tomorrow. Just another typical barbecue. We sat outside while the meat was cooking and Scott came inside just before dinner and threw together a caesar salad. It wasn't one of his best but it was right good. Grilled vegetables, chicken and ribs. Not a bad day after all. Yay.
Strange for me to see one of my entries on the front page. I never thought my entries were anything special and seeing one there makes me doubly sure. I write here just because it's a way to document the passing of time. It goes so slowly, and then I realize that I have years' worth of words. How did that happen? Well, when you write 100 words every single day, eventually there's going to be a collection. I dream of putting them all together and calling it a book. I wonder how many other people have that same dream.
I have so much to do and so little desire to get any of it done. What's the point, Edith? If there's a tomorrow, is this it? Tomorrow never comes. Today is a present. It's a gift. So why do I waste my time sitting here tapping on the keyboard instead of sleeping? It's 0400 and I'm wide awake. That might have something to do with going to sleep at 2030. I didn't even stay up to watch silly sitcoms. I'm battling a cold and calling it an allergy. It's kicking my butt, but I can feel it's almost over.
We went to the Skechers warehouse to buy shoes today but found nothing, so we went to DSW and we each got shoes. Yay. Then we went to lunch at Miami Juice and had a lovely healthy lunch. Now I'm sitting in bed with my laptop watching The Talk and I'm feeling a little sleepy. So, I'm going to continue to tap out today's 100 words and then I'm going to lie down and probably sleep a little. There's a drill at the convention center at 1600 and I want to go check it out. Over and out. I'm gone.
I just watched the documentary "The Day It Snowed In Miami" about the gay rights movement here. Of course, it made me cry, because I couldn't help but be reminded of all my friends who died from AIDS. That aspect of the movement is undeniable. But I think the saddest part is that here in 2014 we're still fighting for our rights. My darling husband and I have been together more than 30 years and we still can't be legally married in this state. That's outright discrimination! The fight continues and I'm proud to be part of it. Keep fighting!
Sauteed garlic is weird and so is the television. Oh, maybe even better. I'm just watching and writing. That's a hard thing to do. What am I focusing on? The writing or the watching? Or maybe I'm just not doing either. I'm unfocused. That's it. That's the ticket. Oh yeah, I'm just unfocused. You don't think they're deliberate. I know that's because I'm watching a goofy show and what I write is goofy and the whole thing is just crazy stuff here. I've had enough and I'm glad that I'm at the mark to just stop and call it quits.
Just another Saturday but just another Saturday the day is unique there are a lot of things that are done on other Saturdays but today is unique because what happened today never happened before. Today I went through all the motions and all the usual things and bought the usual things and argued about the same things and went through the motions and justified and sanctified and glorified all through the day. And then into the night, the sleep. More sleep that is needed but sleep nonetheless. It's good. It's all going to start again tomorrow morning. The same things.
When I put this to bed last night, I had three days to write. Now, I have four days to write plus a new 750. Oy, what have I done to myself? The relentless march of time is relentless. The days come. The days go. The time, it marches on. Letting the days go by. I have this fervent desire to do. I don't care what it is, I just gotta do. There is much to be done and little time remains. Each day that passes is another 24 hours gone that I'll never get back. It's just another day!
I come here on Monday and I think, should I walk first or write first. The walking always wins because that has to be done. The writing can wait because it's optional. It can be done later, but the walking must happen. There's a certain comfort in maintaining a routine. Routines are good up to a point. I don't like when a routine becomes drudgery. I don't want to be a graphics drudge. It's easy to fall into that rut. That's why I'm retired this time. I'm not doing it any more. I need a new routine. What it is?
You think it's easy to write 100 words a day? It's not easy! I sit here and spew out the words one tap at a time. The letters and spaces combine to make words and sentences and before I know it, there's a whole strung together bunch of lines of letters and spaces and words and thoughts. I am patient. This will happen. There's enough time. There's always going to be more time. Or is there? When does time run out? Or will that ever happen? I'm ready for my time to end. Today is a good day to die.
There is such a thing as obsession. It's obsessive to wake up and think, "Today is Wednesday. I must go to 100 Montaditos to eat some gluten bombs." It's crazy, I tell you. When you can't stop thinking about eating wheat, it's a bad thing. There's one thing to be sensitive or allergic, but to just decide that it's bad for me and then to cut it out of my diet is kind of crazy. But when I eat just a little, like I'm thinking about doing today, I feel it! Who knew that gluten was such a horrible thing?
What a lazy day. I didn't even reach near my step goal. We left for a walk but it was shortened by laziness and distraction. After we found at least 20 golf balls we walked back a different way and suddenly I realized that I had left the balls behind in a plastic bag I found in the neighbor's yard. I suppose I'll go back tomorrow and get them. I have 100 things to do and I don't feel like doing one of them. I'm in a mood and you'd think with all the mood altering drugs, I'd be happier.
Last year at this time, we were in Savannah. It was a fun time, but I'm glad we didn't repeat it this year. I did that at Mardi Gras for three years in a row. Those were the days. This year, we'll spend St. Pat's at home. One year, we went to England! It's a fun holiday. Spring has sprung. It's so beautiful right now, it ought to be illegal. I'm in a pretty good mood, but that's because I'm just so gosh darn optimistic. I can't help but feel that everything is going to work out just right, eh?
Beware the Ides of March. I always remember Charles on this day, his birthday. It's odd that I have absolutely no recollection of when he went. I remember it rather vividly. I knew the end was near when he turned bright orange. They said that his liver had stopped working. He was gone soon thereafter. I don't remember what month or year it was because I was so traumatized. He was the last friend we lost and it seems like about 20 years ago but I know it's much less. They're all gone now and sometimes I'm overwhelmed with sadness.
I'm getting the cold shoulder today from His Royal Smallness because he's upset that last night didn't go the way he wanted. He learned a hard lesson that if you say something you better be prepared to live with it. He thinks he can say one thing and do another. It's not going to work that way anymore. Anyway, today is the anniversary of going to Savannah last year for St. Patrick's Day. They had the parade on Saturday. I suppose it was on Saturday again this year, because forbid that they would have a parade on Sunday. Perish forbid!
I was halfway pissed off at myself and halfway pissed off at the perpetrator, but I discovered that I hadn't locked the car and someone took the opportunity to open it during the night and stole my Nikon camera and I tried to be very zen about the whole episode but of course I immediately went to ebay to bid on the same camera until I was just lying here thinking that I could call all the local pawn shops to see if they got a camera recently and tell them my tale of woe. I bet it happens alot.
What's the point of St. Patrick's Day, after all. Is it just an excuse to wear something ugly green and drink a whole lot of alcohol? Well, if so, then we did just what we were supposed to do. The only thing is, we ate Mexican food and drank Mexican drinks. It was good. We had some luxurious tacos made with boneless beef short ribs which cooked all day yesterday. I also made my famous frozen blueberry Margaritas. That was so so good. We stayed home and avoided the drunken revelers. Another holiday under our belts. What's the next one?
Oy, I'm just letting the days go by. And that's not a good thing, at this point. There are just so many days in my life and wasting a single one is never a good idea. No day is wasted. It's all perception. But having that perception after the fact is like munching on the hole in the doughnut. There's no there there. So, any day is a good day when it begins with me opening my eyes and saying, "Good morning, G-d," instead of "Good G-d, morning!" I'm so gosh darn happy right now. Ain't life grand?
I like writing. 100 words at a time is a grand exercise. I remember when I started doing this, I was leery. Would this become just another phantom place where I would make a random contribution at various times in my life and then that was like is that all there is? Is that what the what? What is this? A screed. A diatribe. A rant. None of the above. Drivel, mas or menos. Who care? WGAS. You do know that radio station? It's called Who Gives A Shit? Yeah, that's right. Get over your own self. Now move on.
Is that all there is? If that's all there is my friend, let's keep dancing. Let's break out the booze and have a ball if that's all there is. You can't write ahead. Needs an entry, entry on file and click on the date you wish to enter. Enter your text below. Remember: exactly 100 words. No more, no less. That's it, Merry. Have peace on earth and goodwill to Mary. I wish I knew where that photo went. It was one of my favorites. It was a drunk old man at Mardi Gras with a sign with those words.
I'm amazed I have let myself get into this rut. Sometimes a routine can be a good thing and other times, it gets to be a rut. Helen even knows that I'm coming to see her every Saturday and she's just fine with it. She has her moments and it's not easy for me to see her like that. She has lost all independence and it's very sad but I go week after week. After all, she is, like almost 100. I keep telling her that she's going to make it to 100. I think she'll be 100 in 2018.
You know what's fun about this place? The way you just start writing about something and by the time you're done it's about something else? Oh, that's not the way it is for you? Well, when I start writing here, it always seems like I'm writing about one thing but about halfway through, the subject changes and before I'm done, it's all about something else. It just happens that way. I don't know why. And the whole 100 words thing is a major part of the writing, because it's very difficult to get exactly 100 words. No more, no less.
Who am I kidding? It's so easy to write 100 words. That's why I waited a whole week to write. No, it isn't. But it's one of the reasons why I came here at this time. It's called catch up. And I don't mean that tomato condiment that President Reagan actually believed was a vegetable. And then he became one. That's what they say. Be careful what you write about. Be careful what you think about. Because you will become those things. That's the way it is. Habits are hard to make but easy to break. The beat goes on.
Lard, have mercy, we's about to be done with another month up here in 2014. That's just downright amazing to me. The way time flies. Suddenly, it's going faster than usual. Does that mean something? It's becoming more precious. It's apparent that I have less years ahead of me and more behind me and yet I feel so young and vibrant. Just a few decades ago, being 60 practically conjured images of frail elderly. Now, we know that doesn't begin until much later. We have a longer life expectancy. We expect to live longer. We never know the expiration date.
Yesterday was devoted to Linda. I figured that. That's okay. I got my money's worth, a free lunch. That's always good to get me going. It was tacos, which I really liked. Afterward, we visited Danee and Scott for awhile. That was also a lot of fun. We drank way too much wine, but that's the effect that Linda ends up having on people. I think we each had our own bottle! Of course, we were there about four hours. How did that happen? Now I'm awake at 0500 and in a couple of hours I'm supposed to go walking.
Exactly 100 words. Well, now it's only about 92 words. You see? It just fills up no matter what you write. Words are words. And each word counts as that little ticker at the bottom lets you know just how many words you have hurled from your little brain stem. Full steam ahead, head. Get those words out of you. They are waiting to jump onto the screen. It's time to tap out letters but it isn't until the space bar is hit that the counter moves ahead. It doesn't matter if it's a one or two letter word. Count.
We could have had it all. Rolling in the poo. Mud covered we were. Now we are bathed and warm and dry and lying in bed and fluffy blankets and pillows and watching TV and nibbling on bonbons. Life is good. I like it. It's all too beautiful. I am but a piece of flotsam in the sea of life. Go away and don't harsh my mellow. I'm a mellow fellow. How about a smoke? I could use a puff right about now. There's more at the door. There's more at the door. There's more at the door. There's more.
My glasses! I put them on a lot lately, yet I'm sitting here tapping into my trusty laptop without any glasses. Did I leave them downstairs? I sure hope so, because otherwise they're in the car and I'm not going outside in my underwear. I need something to eat. Last night we ate chicken wings and salad. Such a healthy fucking dinner. Geez, Louise. And where was Weezie when I could have used her around the place? She's a good friend and my stomach is making all sorts of very weird noises. I need a pill and a quick decision.
Kiss another month goodbye. The year is somewhat flying. It's going so fastly. What does that mean? Am I finally enjoying my time here on this earth? Or am I simply existing? I didn't go see Helen yesterday and I'm feeling a great deal of guilt. There was no good reason except that I just didn't want to go and I didn't go. Wow, that was easy. But what did I do instead? I lolled around like a bladder on a stick. Ugh, I went to Costco with Linda. There was a flat tire on the car so that means.
Exactly 100 words is a piece of cake. Just start typing and before you know it, you're there. It's fun. You should try it sometime. 100 words wants you to donate through PayPal. Isn't that amazing? Also, line breaks can be made with HTML. And italics and bold need to have closing tags. If you don't use both, your batch will look like hell. If you use markup often, you might want to change your account preferences to use the rich text editor. Now get out of here. That's it. There are other things on the Internet you should read!
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