Every where seems crowded today in my little world, my little warp bubble–the lockerroom, the coffeeshop. Five guys in the shower. Unusual.
A long line–the drinks and orders getting more complicated, the line longer. St. Lukes, a local Catholic church and school was the topic of conversation. The one guy was dressed pretty spiffy and it told the other St. Luke’s alum, newly discovered that his buddy was getting inducted today–into the Baseball Hall of Fame–Paul Mollitor.
I am down five pounds now. day four of south beach.
D. had another rough day with the children–“exhausted” her. I can well imagine. I think I withdraw more in self-defense.
Around bedtime, Liam was taking a bath, D. and I were in our bedroom, door closed. M. has learned–the hard way?–not to enter without knocking first. So she knocks, asks if she can come in. I reflexively say “no, now is not a good time.” “Ewww, gross,” she says and stomps down the hall and slams her door. D. an I were convulsing with laughter. though I think that comes from the same place as tickling someone until they can’t breath. I should become a Budhaist–but then, where is the fun in that?