Today is payback for my having worked too damn long on Monday, so I get to end the week a little bit earlier than usual. This, of course, means the weather will suck. Or should I say, continue to suck. As has been the case in every year I can remember (which is pretty much just this year, ‘cuz I can’t remember shit), huge spring snowmelt and rain that led to fears of flooding have turned to a monthlong drought leading to fears, of um brown grass or something, which has now turned to heavy rain leading to fears of flooding. Or something. Oh well, better the weather should suck while I’m at home, I guess. Well, no. Actually better the weather be better whether I’m home or not.

It’s been a tough week, and one I’m glad to see (almost) over. For one thing, the Dunkin’ Donuts at the halfway point on the way to work closed Monday for renovations. This means that my commute has stunk to high heaven with tweaking County Sheriffs who haven’t been able to get their sugar and caffeine fix.

Then I went to the “club” store yesterday at lunchtime, and had to wait forever for the two fat old ladies and their fat kid to get the hell away from the organic spinach. Apparently they were intent on discerning some noticeable difference from one package to another (or maybe they’d just never seen spinach before; they didn’t look like the leafy green vegetable type), and had to pick up and handle every frickin’ one of them (no difference – trust me) for an hour while the fat kid practiced ballet kicks or something in the aisle next to them (from her frenetic kicking, it appeared that her DD was open this week, but I’ll give her credit, she got that old ham shank of hers up pretty high; the last time I had my leg in the air that high was probably back in college when I was hammered in an icy bar parking lot, and my feet flew out from under me. But I didn’t have a shopping cart to hold on to, so I win).

I think all the senior living facilities must have coordinated their field trips yesterday, because the aisles were packed tight with fat lumbering old people (and skeletal old people) wearing stretch pants. Some leaned on shopping carts, and some were too big too lumber under their own power (chicken and egg), so they cruised around in those stupid little scooters, all the while pondering whether a pallet of single-ply toilet paper with 500 sheets per roll is a better deal than a pallet of 2-ply toilet paper at 300 sheets per roll.

Oh, it’s not just the old people, of course. The young people suck, too. I mean, WTF? There are a great many mysteries in the universe, but the difference between a can of name-brand peas and a can of store-brand peas is not one of them.

Pick one, and move the fuck along.

Then I had a dream last night, where I was walking home (except it was an apartment in a city, like NY or something), and there was a guy wearing a raincoat with the hood pulled up, all done up in the colors of the Green Bay Packers (kind of a Green Bay rain suit; no cheese head though). He was clearly Stephen King, so I said hello to him, and he pulled his hood down and said “oh, you recognize me?” (I mean, duh – it was Stephen King), and he said he was there with a film crew making a movie in the neighborhood, and, to make a long story short, we got along pretty well so he came up to my place, which overlooked where he was filming, and for some reason I had a shitload of friends (which should have been a tip-off that it was a dream. I mean, Stephen King in a Green Bay rain suit, maybe….), so it was party-central and we were whooping it up, and he said they needed extras, so everybody got to be in the movie. Except for me.

He didn’t come right out and say it, but it was pretty clear that I couldn’t be in the movie because I’m too ugly (and when Stephen King thinks you’re too ugly to be an extra in a movie, that’s pretty bad, I must say), so I was pretty bummed (not so much about being in the movie, which was no big deal, but because I’d been kinda kidding myself that I wasn’t all that bad – I mean, not Brad Pitt, but I didn’t think I was exactly Joseph Merrick, either). ๐Ÿ˜ฅ

Oh well.

Meanwhile, in Albany, State Senators are still in their gay marriage holding position. Maybe they’ll vote today. Maybe not. I’m guessing not.

Farther north in our great State, the President traveled to Watertown to address the 10th Mountain Division at Fort Drum (the most heavily deployed division over the past decade or so in Afghanistan and Iraq). I didn’t really catch what he said, but I’m guessing it was that they’re great, America’s great, and, um, some other flag-related type stuff.

Oh well, time to do that thing I do to stave off the bill collectors. At least ’til Governor Snotball tells me I can’t do it any more.