I woke up early this morning, edited my brother-in-law's resume, had a much-needed chat with my mentor in New York, hustled to an appointment and then went to work. I got out around 6:30 and promptly headed for a run through the Panhandle, stretched, did some push-ups and some sit-ups on the living room rug and then cooked two turkey burgers which I consumed with mustard and pickles while sitting on the sofa in front of two episodes from season one of Weeds. It is less than three days before my thirty-first birthday and less than two weeks before P-Town and this day beat up on me a little bit so the above is the best bit of web-logging I can muster on this night, I think.
Oh, I walked past the Squat & Gobble on Fillmore on my way to Kari's crib yesterday afternoon and saw that it had closed. There was a banner hanging out front that said "Thank You Fillmore for 22 Awesome Years" and even though I'd had brunch with the owner last month and knew the place was gonna fold, seeing the little table in the window where I have spent so many hours of my life hovered over a plate of French fries and my laptop computer so dark and so empty made me feel lonely. But I guess, in the too-often-used words of one Bevan Dufty, "That's life in the big city."