Many of mine and Alex's friends and aquaintances have also witnessed such phenomenon of bad weeks. Bad weeks had by all! Perhaps nothing astrological is amiss, and Saturn isn't given you funny looks, but we all just drank too much. It was quite the party for us all between Halloween and the Elections. Portland doesn't need much of an excuse to drink ("Oh, Saturn's checking you out, I'll drink to that!").
Regardless of the cause, I'm certain that half the city is sitting at home thinking that they'd rather sleep from now through tomorrow than go out and possibly make things worse for themselves. This would actually mean that the bars would be half as full as they are normally.... Hmm.... Things to ponder.
Despite the not so hot week (literally and slangularly (i.e. deriving from slang)) I did get a chance to eat out at a fabulous Ethiopian restaurant yesterday with Alex and our friend David. David is a cool guy, and even though I am often left on the side lines listening to ramblings on everything from spinning records to fixie riding to photogrpahy, he still manages to be good company. We all shared a vegan sampler platter, which you have to eat with your hands, of course (just like in the recent rehash of Sabrina, although I believe Harrison Ford was winning the babe over Moroccan food... lucky bitch).
If I thought anyone I knew could put up with the resulting digestive discourse I would insist that we go when you (whoever you are) are up here next.
Lets see, bad week mentioned: Check.
Ethiopian Food: Check.
Oh! Oh, you're gonna love this. I promise. Wait for it.... Wait for it... You are NOT waiting, I can tell. Fine, just skip right ahead, don't mind my pause for effect. *Artistic Guffah*
I worked outside today. Instead of sitting inside next to my space heater answering phones I sat in a cold metal chair watching the drizzle to downpour from under the overhang of the school. I did not do this because I thought it would be fun. The plumbing in our building has decided it hates its life and would like an assisted suicide. This involves tearing back the carpet, breaking up the concrete floor, digging up the pipes and replacing them. And they thought they would be done with this job by this morning. Silly plumbers.
My choice today was endure warm, dank air indoors or bone chillingly cold air outdoors. I personally chose the cold above the wet dirt and chemical floor cleaner smell. Luckily I only worked half day, and hopefully this will be done by Tuesday... and it will be warmer on Monday.
On top of a half day's work I cleaned the bathroom from floor to ceiling, and I wish that was just a euphemism. In fact, I never completely finished getting things in order in there. Ugh! Is housework ever done?!
That was a rhetorical question.
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