Chronically, inevitably …. another deadline, and another night reading other people’s blogs or writing in my own. Maybe the Monday night thing will become a routine. At least I’m posting something.
Not an especially pleasant weekend, except for the very end. Worked all day Saturday without the benefits of a shower. The hot water nozzle in our apartment shower is on the fritz, and getting my landlord to do any kind of work on the apartment is difficult at best. His plumber came over Sunday, and took a look. No parts. Have to come back. The landlord came over Monday afternoon, saw how much paint had peeled from where he patched and painted NINE YEARS AGO right before I moved in. Suddenly, it’s a disaster. But we have hot showers again. That’s all we really cared about anyway.
Saturday was a drag because we had an enormous fight before I came to work. We need to change something. Jobs. Residence. Quickly.
Managed to have a little fun Sunday night. Saw Jazz Mandolin Project at a relatively new place in Millvale called Mr. Small’s Funhoue. Yet another creative use for de-consecrated (that can’t possibly be spelled right) churches. A theater/performance space that seats up 650 people. An apparently very nice, up-to-date recording studio. And a skate park. Mr. Small’s has done an admirable job of attracting bands from the hippie circuit, but I was a little dubious about attending a show there … Deadheads can be a little scattershot, organizationallywise. But this place is spectacular … amazing sound quality, very well run … we’ll be back on Friday to see Hookah for the first time … um … since Athens, probably.
OK. Finish this story. Only has to be 15 or 20 inches. Piece of cake.
Hm. Should have a smoke first…