It was inevitable, I know my ride and when it's heavy..there's something amiss. Periodically whilst driving at the suggested speed limit on highways I've had the pleasure of hearing a noise distinctly like the sound of someone throwing a handful of shrapnal into my wheelwell. I can feel it under my non-dominant driving foot. It's annoying, it disconcerting (3 payments left) so.. in order to drive and make the noise go away I crank the fan, juice the tunes and float away in the white noise of truck cab goodness. Last night, I lost one of my saving graces. The fan went kaput, hors de combat • \or-duh-kohng-BAH (the "ng" is not pronounced, but the preceding vowel is nasalized)\ • adjective or adverb: out of combat : disabled; if you will, I'm not canceling my weekend - I'm having a dinner with Miss Kate, Willem, Jacob, Emily, Z, and Toolio this Friday, prior to heading off for a Mancation of golf and ridiculosity. I doubt I can have it looked at prior to my departure. And will undoubtedly have to wait an additional week to meet with a ScrewHead with elephantitus of the gorilla sized mitts to plant his fist firmly in my posterior.
Stress is at a comparative all time high at the moment in my wayward existance. Fretting over a possible birth as museum professional again, busted truck, higher rent, additional med probs, and some friggin birds have decided to take over my balcony making it impossible to get my rare-meat eating, pasty, fuzzy white *ss out in the sunlight, for fear of scaring momma and poppa bird away and having the three little aliens decomp on on my watch.
I've decided to let them be, and they're now subletting my balcony until the wee ones can take flight. (I was gone 5days..and in that time they built a nest, popped out three blue eggy-weggs, hatched, and are already getting exponentially bigger) chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp... welcome the sunrise oh ye vampire of the night, try to sleep big guy, I dare ya.