Yesterday, I woke up at 8:30, after going to bed only five hours earlier. The morning sun hadn't a chance to heat things up when I was called away from my slumber at the chance for a day away from the normal. After politely declining my invitation at first, I then dragged my dead weight from the sheets and before I knew it, I was on a trip to the high country. It went something like a 100Th Ave. to I-65 to I-70, and a hour later I'm rubbing elbows and hob-knobbing it with the rich snobs. Those bastards. It's alright, I was able to lay my peepers on some of the most beautiful wild life the highest botanical gardens the United States has to offer, and the flowers adorning the several waterfalls had their own appeal. By the end of the day I was exhausted from sitting in a car and walking all day. The sun and stress, beating down on me like a drum, drained precious manna and zapped any remaining energy I might of had stored before the trip. I was left tired but not sleepy; life-less but not dead. After everything, I couldn't wait to get home and take a few vrips of some high quality marijuana from the vaporizer, soak into the sofa and became catatonic for a couple hours.
Life is too short to fuss, we must live each day to it's fullest. And in Vail it's not an ordinary farmer's market, they take that mantra serious. There is live music and cooked food, and in simple terms it's a week long festival. There were hot dogs, but not plain old hot dogs; they're the best tatsting Vienna Chicago style hot dogs. There was bratwurst and other German sausages. They had Phillie steak-n-cheese and Greek gyros, smoked salmon from an award winning chef, and empanadas along with tamales. So much good food it was entirely too easy to over eat. It was without any doubt better than the food at Furr's we ate later, but because I wasn't paying for myself I was vastly limited to what I could say. I quietly accepted.
Then to top it all off, when we returned home after the egregious journey, we come to find the humble aboded unprotected from the scum of the earth. It is unknown to me when or how the garage door opened its self, but I wish it wouldn't do it again. To pull up and find my home open to anyone curious enough to look was a taxing experience. My imagination sprung into action and filled my mind with hundreds of possible situations that were not good. We live in a good neighborhood on the corner of a busy street amongst friends in a city with more cops per capita than most other cities in the state--if not every other city in the country-- so any criminal didn't stand much chance. In fact two cops drove by within minutes after getting home. This lead me to a more concerning thought, but I don't figure a judge would warrant a search of my property in light of a cop finding less than an eighth of marijuana, but I still was freaking out thinking about what if a cop checked the house like the time they did my grandma's house. One night her garage door was left open, and her neighbors called the police. The cops did a quick search of property to check if everything was okay and my grandma didn't even wake up. They shut the door and left. She was paranoid for the longest time after that incident.
And today I woke up at 6:30 after six hours, and it's going to make for another long day. As of right now it's almost four-twenty server time and I have another 13 hours ahead of me after already putting in four. My frontal lobe is already starting to throb, and the base of my neck is stiff. But I can feel in my bones it's going to be a good day.
March 31, 2009 | August 18, 2009