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contours provocations
journal - 2003-0325 - 1900 Pennies; Water, Water, Water; Melancholia II I've discovered the perfect use for pennies. You use them to buy stamps at a stamp machine. (If you try to use them at the counter, the clerk will giggle and point.) Of course, plucking 37 of the copper pieces into a machine can get boring. And you're bound to drop about half. But at least it get rid of the pennies. Last night when I got home, there were problems galore. First the toilet overflowed. Oh joy! Then the water began to back up in the bath. I madly threw towels on the floor to keep the water from reaching the floor furnace. They cats had to offer their customary help. Which consists of racing around and getting in the way. Next I could not find my glasses. After much searching, I found them in the middle of a newspaper. I needed the glasses to read the label on a bottle of drain cleaner. I poured it into the tub and closed off the bath to keep the kitties out. I checked back but no progress. I hemmed and hawed and finally decided I'd have to go to the grocery for another bottle. So off I went. My gosh, the stuff is expensive! I trudged back home, poured the entire bottle into the tub, closed the door, and told myself I'd check back in about an hour. The hour came, but again no success. By now, I was sure I'd have to call a plumber. The last time I used a plumber, it costs about $300. That's what happens when you buy a place as is and discover that the bathtub drain is not connected to the sewer pipe. Around ten, I opened the door and the water was gone! Praise the goddess! And within a few minutes I found my glass case which I'd used as a bookmark. Last night I was whining about feeling more depressed than usual. I can't say that today was much better. It was not so much that I couldn't deal with things, it was more of not wanting to. Why fucking bother! Again, I have that feeling of being isolated. Something not cured by a crowd. As though I'm disconnected. I have to rely on discipline to get anything done. Any sense of expectation is missing. And on that happy, jolly note, I'll stop. PAX!
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