Some kind of squalid interaction
I spent all day yesterday thinking about various things I want to write entries about (such as Karen and Pär's departure, and Mary Anne's kingdom) but not actually writing them, due to time constraints. (It was one of those days where you wake up headachey and groggy, but figure that that's just morning and you'll be fine later, so you go to work and discover that the problem doesn't go away, but you figure that you ought to just finish up your two important projects for the day before you go home, and next thing you know it's 8:30 p.m. and you're still at work. Or maybe it's just me that has days like that.) Anyway, in lieu of a real entry:
I'm still trying to avoid pointing y'all to every single Jon Carroll column, but I thought today's was particularly entertaining. Excerpts from an odd police-log column in the Arcata Eye, a northern-California weekly newspaper.
An item that Carroll didn't quote, just to give a sense of what the log is like:
11:25 a.m. An underwear drawer may not offer the Fort Knox-like security one assumes, and certainly nothing approaching the sock drawer's vault-like impregnability. A Buttermilk Lane resident is out $300.
Gotta go work.