It’s that time of year again – work’s slow (I’m getting just enough work to fuck up my unemployment – I don’t mind. I love work), and I’m playing catch up with that stuff that gets shoved to the back burner when I’m busy.
I’m hanging paintings (some of them), reinforcing my shitty IKEA furniture (I love L-brackets, yes I do), going to the gym, catching up on blogs and email, riding the bike and taking advantage of a nearby beach.
I hadn’t realized though, just how much of my time the crazy in the old neighborhood occupied. I kind of don’t know what to do for free entertainment now.
No weirdos screaming outside my window at 3 am, no police chases, no Saturday night hipster-fests at the nearby cemetery, no random gunfire, no roaming packs of dogs, and the craziest neighbor I have is the very nice lady a few doors down whose entire English vocabulary consists of “good morning”.
Even the people who go through the trash for recyclables are nice.
I suppose I’ll get used to it eventually, but right now it’s making me nuts.