concrete and barb wire

Woke up with a Lucinda Williams’ lyric playing in my head, “concrete and barb wire.” Don’t know where that came from. And with the stars in virulent disarray, I had to take the little PowerBook to the shop to get fixed. The horror of it all. I’m down to one and a half computers here. I’m scared. It’s a cool and gray day out, and not a day I want to spend running around. Looks like I have almost no choice in the matter, though. I got stuck at the mall this afternoon, I was returning a truck to its rightful owner, and I wanted to beat traffic so I figured I would just kill some time at the mall. Only problem, none of my buddies were working, or the ones who were working, were actually too busy to hang any. I did all of my summer shopping, though, a couple of new shirts. I was also looking for some new shorts, but every place I tried on my size, the size seems to have gotten a bit tight in the waist so I decided I would stick to last year’s models. Works for me. I did a quick inventory of my summer wardrobe — ahead of schedule, but the Equinox is just around the corner so I figure I need to be ready for spring. New Hawaiian shirts, check. Pair of sandals with lots of tread left, check. Baggy black shorts, check. I’m ready.