Mood:vaguely disappointed and conversation starved
Music:Phoebe Snow: "Poetry Man"
Little things kill
All in all, it's been an okay but mediocre weekend of moderate getting things done. Tuesday is my younger daughter Shannon's birthday. She'll be eleven. I went to the store tonight and got Shannon a card and I'm sitting here addressing and signing it. Sometimes, the way my brain works is a curse. It occurs to me that I will not see her open it. This will be the second of my daughters' birthdays I've not been there. I missed Jackie's birthday a little less than a year ago, when the ex moved out the day before. Why does melancholy sneak up and club you over the head when you're not looking? I thought that only happened to maudlin drunks who couldn't control their liquor, and I don't even drink, when I'm alone. I'm so thirsty for a good conversation right now. I should just go to bed. I've smoked this day down to the filter -- there's really nothing productive left of it. I suspect that I'll find a better mood on the other side of a good night's sleep.