November 30, 2007

1. Payday.
2. Woke up around 5 and listened to NPR's "Morning Edition."
3. Decided for the first time since I've been here to take a bath. Turned up the radio and ran the tap.
4. While bathing, drank a Guiness and read Michael McClure's *Poisoned Wheat* (SF, 1965), which the West Coast Girl's College library stupidly gave up for free.
5. Made coffee. I have a campfire perculator coffee maker, so I let it brew until the whole place smells like coffee. Mmm, thick.
6. Decided to be half-assed house-proud for my dinner-party tonight. I cleaned the tub (which no one will look at) and decided that the rest wasn't worth the effort. I live in a lake-view closet. No matter how June Cleaver I get, you can't escape that fact.
7. If I invited you over to my place within the past three weeks, I meant tonight. Yes, Jeffrey and Dillon and whoever else, this means you. I have three chairs, including the Laz-E-Boy. Folks will most likely arrive whenever they feel like it. I am making baked ziti around 6ish. There is Pabst in the fridge and Ancient Age on the counter. Come when you're ready.
8. That is my report.