Shorts and flannel pajamas
It’s the perfect weather. I broke down and appeased my boss by wearing long pants one day, but that was because I knew I would be out late. So I struggled into a pair of work jeans. But that was only one day.
It’s amazing how “four hours a day,” and “a couple of days a week,” is rapidly becoming more like 6 or 8 hours, and this weekend, it will be 6 days in a row.
I shouldn’t complain, I mean, it is regular work, pays okay, and I’ve gotten a lot more judicious about my time. I don’t have time for “quick” readings, and especially not for those free ones.
And I’m still there, still playing manager. Sort of weird. One of the parts I look forward to is an empty apartment is regularly getting the \\Wall Street Journal\\. Since no one is living there, it’s a toss up whether I get a chance to grab that paper in the afternoon, of if someone else grabs it before I do. I suspect one of the tenants has been snagging it on occasion, but I had a chance to digest a portion of it last night, on the way home.
Got home and found this. This is America: everything is for sale.
To be honest, there are portions of the Journal that I fail to grasp. Big companies doing big things with mergers and takeovers that I don’t are to waste my personal bandwidth on. But some of the writing is quite good. Even had a review of “8 Mile” or whatever it’s called, whathisname’s new movie. Although, I suspect that the reviewer gushed a little. Then there was a very tasty short piece about another movie, something about a Deconstructionist Philosopher. Fully a third of the short piece was devoted to a waitress getting doing a doctorate in philosophy someplace. Rather vibrant and conversational for a heavyweight news journal.
Easy living, warm enough for shorts in the day, and cool enough that flannel pajamas are called for at night.
