"the next day is mean and cold and miserable from its inception, a perfectly useless day for anything except suicide by sleeping pills, a day that came out of the oven too soon" - peter s. beagle, i see by my outfit yeah. pretty much what he said.

i'm about done with fog, i know that much. more super-thick versions of it today, and it's just getting at me. i can't go fast when i want to go fast, i can't breathe like i'd prefer to breathe, i can't see where the cars are, and my joints just really hate it. i had to get off and rest a couple of times coming home, and sheesh. i haven't had to do that since week two. and really, given the location and the peculiarities of the job and all that, this thing isn't anywhere near long-term sustainable.

i want a normal commute. over normal territory through normal neighbourhoods past normal stores to work among normal people who wouldn't have to club together all their pop-can money for the whole year and mail off to outer mongolia in order to display a fragment of personality or at least some place where it's possible to eat more than chocolate bars if what you've brought with you isn't quite right.

the morning was pretty good, actually. got all the good lights and was there sooner than i expected to be. didn't look like it was going to stay foggy at all, because the sun came up and actually burned us some blue by the time i got there. but by the time i was ready to leave it was all over us all over again. couldn't see the next lamp as i came up the bridge. and obviously i'm also just having one of those bad-body days too. maudit, but i'll be glad to change to whatever's coming up next.

health-club conversation this morning was about someone's kid. suddenly it occurred to me that any of these people could be parents of kids my kid could be playing ball with next year. they have that sound. i better make sure i keep my lip zipped.

in no kind of mood to sing anything