rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Coma

It very nearly came down to me turning on the air conditioner today. There's a humid haze making a white halo for the sun, and the air seems so thick that it feels as though the ground itself is sweating. The feral kittens are practically comatose, draped over the chaise lounge, which can't be a very comfortable place because it has plastic upholstery. I'll want nothing to do with the outdoors until it's no hotter out there as it is in here, which is currently eighty degrees. It must still be ninety outside.

All I had for dinner was a tuna sandwich (not a tuna fish sandwich, mind you, as, to my knowledge, there is no such thing a non-fish variety of tuna, at least in English, and the redundancy irritates me) because I didn't want to ignite so much as a single burner on the stove. Maybe I'll fry a potato later.

The front lawn is turning a bit green, but despite all the water I've poured on it over the last few days the back lawn remains a dismal, thatchy brown. I wonder if all the gopher tunnels in the front lawn are actually taking water to the lawn's roots? Maybe instead of trying to rid the front yard of gophers I ought to try to get a few of them to move into the back yard.

I've been in an eighties mood all afternoon.

There, there. The The, Hear, hear!

I like the Hopperesque quality of the early scene with the window.
Subscribe

  • 52/04: Later and Later

    Oh the relentless sunny days reminding me of what I don't do anymore. Like write journal entries on time and remember to post them. It's not that I'm…

  • 52/03: No Salt, Sherlock

    Loosing track again. I think I'm running at least a day behind, but behind what I have no clue. And last week I was a day ahead. One would think I'd…

  • 52/02: I Knew

    Dinner for breakfast again, following morning at midnight, and a wish to still be asleep. My brain feels like a muddled Miró, comically scary though…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 10 comments

  • 52/04: Later and Later

    Oh the relentless sunny days reminding me of what I don't do anymore. Like write journal entries on time and remember to post them. It's not that I'm…

  • 52/03: No Salt, Sherlock

    Loosing track again. I think I'm running at least a day behind, but behind what I have no clue. And last week I was a day ahead. One would think I'd…

  • 52/02: I Knew

    Dinner for breakfast again, following morning at midnight, and a wish to still be asleep. My brain feels like a muddled Miró, comically scary though…