Mister

His Parents named him Mister...Mister Smith. He lived up the street in a house with exactly 2 windows. One in the Office and one in his bedroom. The shades drawn half in each, the house resembled a face bursting with boredom.

Mister had a daily routine. And it was posted neatly beside his bed.
1. Wake
2. Eat (M,W,F: eggs / T,TH,Sat: Ceral / Sun: English muffin with jam)
3. Vaccuum
4. Ride
5. Work
6. Sleep

Sundays were special. No work meant he devoted 2 hours after his ride to reading. Always the first part of the same book. He would see if he could get any further each time. But to no avail. He lives for sundays. Nothing else.

47 minutes

Austin is named after a city in Texas. He is very handsome...charismatic, and charming. At nine years old he was entered into a spelling bee. His first word was cape. K-wrong...and he was out. Where he is rich in charm, he lacks common sense. With good looks, comes poor decision making skills. He has friends. Lots of friends. He is rich...drives a vette. Married the prom queen. She cheats on him. He knows but stays. There is no happiness...no conclusion.

get me

Today, at work, somebody asked me if how I was doing? Not like to greet me or say hello, it was like, are you happy? I have this habit when I work of getting into this "don't give a shit" mood. Straight-faced whatever Brian comes out and everybody thinks I am sad...or down...or something. I just don't give a shit. Is that healthy? I am not sure if anybody gets me. ha.

Frustration

I didn't have any plans tomorrow morning. Its not like I was going to do anything. In fact I was rather looking forward to doing nothing. Maybe a bike ride, some tv and a pot pie. Ha, funny how things work out. My phone died, so I missed the call, but I got the message 4 hours later...too late. And now I'm bummed. And working tomorrow. bleh.