Three men walk into a bar, one of them is a bit stupid and the whole scene unfolds with a kind of tedious inevitability.
1:21 p.m.
I�m tired. My sleep patterns still aren�t back to normal (my body still wants to be on holidays) and I�m waking up several times at night and much too early with the chiming of the clock. Last night I lay shivering until Hubby came to bed when I spooned with him trying to get warm. Even after he fell asleep I was still cold.
My daughter made up a beautiful poster for Hubby�s and my concert at Java next Friday, and after a few misprints (I forgot to select legal-size paper in page preview) I printed it out on the laser printer and made photocopies at the university. I then posted several around the campus and later in town at the butcher�s, the florist�s, the bookstore, Java itself, and the health-food store. The poster is black and white with a scanned picture of Bessie Smith that Little Princess photoshopped slightly. Everyone I showed it to admired it.
The music students have invited me to go bowling with them tonight. I suspect it is because I have a motor vehicle and can give rides to others less fortunate than myself. Also, as a member of the choir, I am an honorary music student (technically), but I would like to think that they like me for my charm and wit and because I�m cool and hip. Probably the car is the clincher. I�ll let you know how that goes.
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