9:42pm.
Another long day. Will be turning in shortly.
I still feel a sense of freedom over last night's blog post. I admitted to forgetting people's names all the time. I saw a guy in the hallway this afternoon. He said, "Hi, Bev". I smiled and said hello and kept going. Damned if I know what his name is. I haven't a bloody clue. John? Paul? George? Ringo? Who knows? But he knows mine, and that is all that matters for the time being. He's a manager, so I should probably attempt to find out his name. I guess. I don't know. I mean, if I found out his name, like I have twice already, I'd likely just forget it again. Because Bevboy.
After work tonight I got myself to the post office to mail the latest issue of Frank Magazine to someone I mentioned in the current issue. He is a business reporter at WCBS Radio in New York, and I make it a point to listen to at least one of his business reports every morning on my way to work. He has some family in Newfoundland. Dunno how often he makes it to these shores. I also threw in some Blog business cards. Because Bevboy.
After that, I parked the Soul on a side street close to where Patricia has her Pilates class. I half slept for about 90 minutes before I met up with her where she has her Pilates. We drove here. Ate some salmon. Realized that we both want more salmon. Maybe during our annual anti-Superbowl party, we will.
Ah, yes. The Superbowl. I have no understanding whatsoever of the sport of football. People run after this ball that doesn't even look that round, and rejoice when they advance three inches in the desired direction. I'm bored out of my mind. The next day, the armchair pundits pronounce that it was an excellent game,and I throw up my hands. I will never get that crap. Ever.
I think I will turn in. Nice to get to bed before 11pm for a change.
See you tomorrow.
Bevboy
Tomorrow is Friday. Can't frigging wait. Been a long week. Need some rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment