Beatin it down

I'm sick of hospitals. I'm sick of gray. I'm sick of pot holes. I'm sick of never-ending paper loads. I'm sick of fat men with basset hounds. I'm sick of chapped lips. I'm sick of The Family Guy. I'm sick of ego-wars. Most of all, I'm sick of crappy things happening to good people. when you can't blame karma, who can you blame?

Still... there's much more that I'm not sick of-- I need to remember that.

I'm not sick of my cali or penny; i'm actually not nearly as sick of that boy i live with as i probably should be after 8.5 years (in fact he got a way decent haircut last night-- i approve with oggled-eyed nodding). i'm not sick of cookies or coffee or cookies and coffee. i'm enjoying the presence of 15 year olds (only now should you be concerned about my mental well being). i like the smell of the cedar that pleasantly commandeered my driveway. finally i enjoy the new / used pair of jeans i bought from the second hand store last weekend.

I like malts. I'm going to try and talk that boy i live with into going to 50s grill after visiting the hospital. i don't know if he'll jump on it -- but malts from the 50's grill can not be beat!