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duck, duck, goose: 4. 4.05

For crying out loud, when all you hear on a Monday morning from your work colleagues is how much they worked all weekend, the week just seems off to a bad start already. And me? Iím answering to the taxman today and twiddling my thumbs. This place is all off kilter, lemme tell you.

Duck: This weekend, where I live, it rained. A lot. It kind of messed things up on Friday night, inspiring me to venture no further than the 5-block radius of my little Ďhood, and thus mandating a night at ye olde local watering hole. Not inherently bad, but somehow it contributed to the brief, almost humorous, meltdown I had while standing in the bar snarling at its familiarity, frustrated by the suspended state of wanting to move on but knowing itís not just time yet, and a searingly intense hatred of this jobbie Iím holding down. Oh well. I guess waiting it all out is the order of the day. Then I got slightly intoxicated and realized how dumb and complainy I can get. For real, itís a little insane. But I ducked any further consequences of this rant, thank goodness. The crazy lady calms down with some Jagermeister, yes she does.

The rain came in handy though, on Saturday, interfering in a tedious road trip to PA, allowing me to duck out of a (snore, yawn) baby shower, and thus contributing to another sublime day of goopy hanging and general fun. Anyway, I should have had a shower of my own because this weekend, I was extraordinarily pleased to welcome the newest addition to my (ok, itís not really that horrible after all) life: Lance. Ainít he just a doll?

Duck: On Saturday night, I had yummy duck for dinner.

(Does anyone else think Iím spending entirely too much time thinking about myself lately? All this, what am I doing, where am I going stuff?? Well, youíre rightÖbut I just feel momentum for the first time in a while and I donít want to waste it. And after I get done riding out the waiting part, I want to enjoy the rest of the ride.)

Goose: Heading back from a little afternoon jaunt through the suburban wasteland today, I just had to stop for a full 3 minutes or so to let a stately Canadian Goose saunter across the road. He (she?) was smack dab in the middle of the lane with oncoming traffic in the other direction. What can you do? Some choad behind me was leaning on his horn and I was pretty satisfied with the long, withering look the goose shot back at him. But, of course: patience.


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