I wasn’t able to fall asleep until really late last night. I was woken up this morning by the sound of my neighbor sanding the moulding in the hallway outside. (We’re slowly repainting outside. I’ve meant to do my part, but after missing the first couple of painting parties, I’m out of the loop and haven’t been able to find a place to start. I’m a procrastinator.) I wasn’t able to get any more sleep through the grinding whine of the sander, so I ended up having a pretty rough and scattered day.
I was shit on by a bird again today. I had it coming, I guess – I chose to eat lunch outside at Ivar’s, where there are signs posted encouraging customers to feed an aggressive pack of seagulls. I had another near miss a few weeks ago, a bird hit my backpack that time. I think this only happens when I’m in a bad mood. It’s nature’s way of telling me to calm down. Okay, maybe not.
When I stopped at a bookstore earlier, the book I was looking for didn’t turn up. Though I didn’t feel like browsing, I forced myself to stay awhile longer and look through the new releases. I always have a tug of meaningless Catholic guilt when I go into a bookstore and don’t buy anything. I browsed the new releases absently, paranoid that my tired posture and heavy jacket were making me look like a shoplifter.