Sunday, June 06, 2010
shit went down at 7:37 PM
Today I stood above the sink for fifteen minutes with a flashlight and a pair of hemostats trying to dig out the cause of the hellish metal din that had been recently affecting the garbage disposal. After finding it and a few minutes of close inspection I still have no idea what it used to be.
I stood over the recently unpacked pile of gear and flies sitting on the kitchen table, just staring. My eyes wandering from thing to thing and I picked up a battered foam toad and turned it over in my hand. The green thread around the shank is frayed and broken, the thin ends unruly, sticking out every way like the weeds that pester the mesquite trees in my front yard. A rough mouth does that. I toss the fly back into the pile.
I did a load of whites.
I found a tangled leader while digging through my toiletries bag looking for chapstick. I untangled it and put it back even though I know that's not where it goes.
An editor for a local magazine called me and wanted me to take a photo of something but I am motivationally challenged and have feet that are a few shades darker than they used to be and don't like sitting at my computer.
It's almost been a week, now.
Havana Club and soda with a lime and one more cast?... No? Damn.