do the shuffle past the roses

The life of an unemployed college grad is glamorous. Days are spent waking up just in time for a lunch of breakfast. Before that magic happens, I shuffle outside, sometimes in an over-sized tee, or my striped peejs and a tank-top, sometimes in socks or my flip-flops when the sun shines, which is more often than not. I shuffle outside with a mission to pick up the neatly wrapped newspaper.

I digress to briefly expound upon a rather amusing story that happened at the beginning of my lease here. When my house-mates and I started subscribing to the L.A. Times, I was diligent in filling out the crossword puzzles, which is not so much the case now but I proceeded to be able to complete the Monday, Tuesday, and the occasional Wednesday.. then the rest of the week the clues just narrowed their focus and filled with useless neat tidbits information, I am not. As my house-mates were working people, they’d leave the house early, one in a Mini-Cooper and the other in a distinguished Mitsubishi convertible. One off to install windows so people could look out of their houses and the other to listen, sign, and interpret classes. Wonderful people, innit? Some mornings, I would pick up a neatly tied wad of paper, and other mornings, to my puzzlement, the same paper would be shredded all to hell. My thoughts were along the line of, “My, what crazy animals are out there.” This would happen on and off and I finally told my roommate, Mitsubishi, gee, there’s some raccoon or stray dog out there that goes around post-witching hour destroying the pleasures of the front cover headlines. Abashed, she said “Grr, grr?” Sheepish and a Homer Simpson, D’oh. A college grad with critical thinking skills? There’s a reason I shuffle about down the driveway, day in, day out.

A digress became TO BE CONTINUED…

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