measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *sob* pity me, please I've put eight hours into The Beast today. You'd never know that I put more than an hour. There's not a damn bit of difference, unless you happen to go into the kitchen or bathroom and smell the lemony freshness. The main part of the room still looks like a pit, and I've come to a realization... I just have too much stuff. Actually, I lie. I've known I have too much stuff for a long time. But URG... really... this is rediculous. I've skipped doing ironing for now. I figure hanging stuff UP is the best thing to do so I can at least get the majority of things done. I can iron as I need things for now. Do that later in the week. I think the most productive part of this is that the small passageway (we're talking 18 inches here) to get around my bed to my closet is now nearly clear... Clothes are now piled only about two inches high. This is a severe improvement compared to the pile of clothing that was there earlier, which was nearly as high as my boxspring. (and to add some extra oomph into that height... my bed is up on cinder blocks that are positioned for maximum height... so the boxspring is approximately 3 feet off the ground). So pity my weakness and stupidity in allowing this disaster to happen, please? Geez. Along with this, I had a couple of disturbing experiences today while running errands. The first was at Dunkin' Donuts in Chinatown, where one of the workers had brought a portable TV in so that everyone working there could watch the Sox games between customers. As I was getting my coffee, there was an ad for... I kid you not, a Potty Putter. A portable office golf thing that you can bring into the bathroom and practice your putts while you sit on the throne. I'd expect this from Saturday Night Live... but no, this thing's real. I'm truly terrified by that, and my mind refuses to meander from the scene of some corporate exec in a stall missing a put and whacking the person in the stall next door with a poorly executed putt. The other was shortly after that as I walked to my post office. Apparently the side street next to my post office is one of the current spots for prostitution parking, because in the short block of this side street, I noticed TEN condoms that had been tossed into the gutter. Disgusting, I know. Not surprising to find gross things in the area around Chinatown--only a few short years ago, this area was known as the Combat Zone (where even cops didn't want to tread), but that was something new. And sadly, it seems like the area right around my post office is starting to go downhill again. Ironic since a high-rise Ritz Carlton apartment building is going up literally right around the corner. I wonder if it'll get sparkling clean once that building is complete. Remind me to never go check my post office after the sun goes down during the winter now. Or I'll make sure to take the T the extra stop to Downtown Crossing and walk in front of the hotel, rather than take the faster route from Chinatown. *shudder* Just thought I'd share.... :) Off to continue taming... --Mel. 11:23 p.m. - 23 June 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||