Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Journaling... Or something.

My therapist says I should 'journal', preferably every day. She thinks it will be good for me. I don't have to write about anything in particular; just write whatever is on my mind. So, here I am, at the deli again, writing again, not actually having anything to say again. Bless your heart for being here.

I have to confess, I don't really feel like I have much to say today. Elysian Space Dust IPA is just as gross as you'd expect an IPA to be. I'm drinking the Pluff Mud again. The deli's groan-worthy joke of the week (posted on a chalk board next to the chalk board dedicated to the current beer menu) is:

Q: What did the baby corn say to the mama corn?

A: Where's the pop corn?

Yeah. They're always that fabulously terrible.

Okay, so quick confession: I may manage to write everyday, but it won't be a post a day. Because, despite the short length of this post so far, I'm actually on day two. Bright side though, they tapped a new beer at the deli and it's surprisingly tasty. It's 21st Amendment Brewery's 'Hell or High Watermelon'. I have to confess, I did not have high hopes for a watermelon beer, but it's actually pretty good. Very summery.

Anyway, I had my yearly review at work today. It went well. Woohoo. And such. I've always been a geek-tastic, over-achiever so evaluations have never stressed me much. Hmmm. I think that makes me sound like a douche... I don't mean to. I mostly do well at work because I'm socially awkward and have no life. And I'm insecure and need affirmation. So I work harder than someone who has, like, any self esteem at all. Because I need someone else to tell me I'm worth something. Whatever. Is what it is.


Monday, March 27, 2017

Some Observations

The fella in apartment D sounds like he's dying. Any time we're out on our respective patios at the same time, I can hear him coughing. It sounds asbsolutely terrible. I don't know if he is old or young or somewhere in between (I've never seen him) but he can't be healthy. I should probably take a moment here to tell you a little about where I live. It's a little apartment building; just a row of 7 or 8 little townhouses is all. Behind each one is a small 'patio'. And by patio, I mean a concrete slab about 6ft by 10ft with an old brown wooden fence around it such that you can't see out.

So this man, he has a cough that I would not hesitate to call terrifying. I hope, sincerely, that when he is out on his patio it's not for a smoke like when I'm on my patio. I mean, this cough, it's reminiscent of the last part of one's stay at one of those old TB hospitals. So, like I've said, I've never seen the guy... And that's the other thing about our little block of town homes; I don't currently know ANY of my neighbors and there are only a couple that I could recognize by sight (and one by sound, clearly). It's not a very social place to live. We're right across the street from campus, on the cheap side, so the neighbors are either transient college types or folks who can't afford to live someplace better. I long for the day when another pair of cheap-asses like myself and my husband move in. Someone older than 20 who also can form a coherent sentence. It will be glorious.

The cool thing about where we live though is the deli across the street. They have pretty good food and 6 beer taps; 4 of which are usually tasty craft beers. And they play good music. Stuff like The Band, Nathaniel Rateliff and the Nightsweats, The Lumineers, and Hozier. I'm there now. Here now? Whatever. Anyway, it's a nice place to just hang out. And they know me here. And if I have too many beers, well, it's only like fifty feet to my apartment. Sometimes some of the college crowd here is a little shitty, but usually not. Like, a moment ago, these girls came out (I'm on the patio so I can smoke), and one of them was saying something about how someone was too stupid to count change... I glanced in the large picture window by my table and the girl working the register is not only new, but clearly just a high school student. Give her a break. Besides, by the look of you, I'm amazed you bitches aren't "too stupid" to tie your fucking shoes. Just sayin'.

At the moment, I'm drinking a Holy City Pluff Mudd Porter. You should try it. I like dark beer, but it's very drinkable even if that isn't usually your thing.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

So here we are...

Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them. –AA Milne


If even one person reads this blog, I'll be amazed. And probably also hugely embarrassed. Mortified, even. I suppose I'm doing it mostly for myself. But you, Reader, if you're there, may find something of interest to you in amongst all the general random weirdness. Perhaps you'll even find something that's helpful to you. Something you can connect to. I'd like to think you will. 

Even if I might not like to think about you actually existing...