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2002-03-27 || 1:51 p.m. || bread || hello. could you please come sit on carpet and listen to 'bread*' by clem snide and cry with me for a while? this song. it is so highly inappropriate for sitting in front of computer monitors and pulling hair out with worky frustration. worky frustration. i sat in a puddle this morning. it's beautiful out and i wanted to sit on the steps and read on my wee break. i moved over a bit to be in the sun and. i think it was a sign. to go home. because. even robots cannot withstand such conditions. even if i were a robot, puddles tend to cause shorts and electrical mishaps. and then the feller from clem snide is singing so pretty. i am wearing a t-shirt. i am wearing my yella stripedy sneaks. i am driving along the glorious five to me mum and dad's in a couple days and making preparations. sunburning the shoulders a bit while at lunch. wearing summery clothes. thinking about beaches and taco loco and adventures in my sissy's buick. my poppy and his salty pirateness. me mum and her green thumb and fingers. wheeee. * i change my vote to 'your favorite music.' it hurts. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |