Like in the caveman days, the only two times I left the comfort of my lair was to gather food at the nearby Taco Bell and McDonald's.
Damn, I need to buy groceries.
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Been reading Thomas Harris' "Hannibal" and readying myself for the movie, which premiered Friday. Got mostly negative or middling reviews. Haven't read a fully positive one yet. Still looking forward to seeing it, though.
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Recently celebrated a birthday and traveled to Las Vegas on some work-related business. This is the second year in a row spent high in the air celebrating a birthday. My birthday. And all I can say is that the older one gets, the less spectacular each successive one becomes.
Before leaving on the trip, some co-workers took me out to a birthday lunch. For a stretch of time, the topic of conversation centered on kids. I don't know why. One co-worker talked about his daughter and how her report card was due that afternoon and how he was looking forward to it. Another co-worker wondered at what age should she allow her son to stay alone at home by himself. As I phased in an out of the different kid conversations, I realized I was the youngest at the table. And that deep down inside, I still felt like a kid myself.
With this realization, I had an inner panic attack -- I couldn't hold back the urge to tell someone, anyone, this small bit of terrifying information. I ended up telling Kanoe, sitting next to me, who's the receptionist at where I work.
"Kanoe, you guys are all talking about kids, while I myself still feel like one."
She laughed and said, "Well, isn't that good?"
And then I thought to myself, is it? I don't know. I'm supposed to be a grown-up, with grown-up responsibilities and such. But take away the rent, the bills, and the fact that I drive a car and can consume alcohol legally, I'm still a kid with his toys. Living day to day, paycheck to paycheck without a damn clue where his next meal is coming from.
Probably from Taco Bell or McDonald's.
Damn, I need to buy groceries.
---
Been reading Thomas Harris' "Hannibal" and readying myself for the movie, which premiered Friday. Got mostly negative or middling reviews. Haven't read a fully positive one yet. Still looking forward to seeing it, though.
---
Recently celebrated a birthday and traveled to Las Vegas on some work-related business. This is the second year in a row spent high in the air celebrating a birthday. My birthday. And all I can say is that the older one gets, the less spectacular each successive one becomes.
Before leaving on the trip, some co-workers took me out to a birthday lunch. For a stretch of time, the topic of conversation centered on kids. I don't know why. One co-worker talked about his daughter and how her report card was due that afternoon and how he was looking forward to it. Another co-worker wondered at what age should she allow her son to stay alone at home by himself. As I phased in an out of the different kid conversations, I realized I was the youngest at the table. And that deep down inside, I still felt like a kid myself.
With this realization, I had an inner panic attack -- I couldn't hold back the urge to tell someone, anyone, this small bit of terrifying information. I ended up telling Kanoe, sitting next to me, who's the receptionist at where I work.
"Kanoe, you guys are all talking about kids, while I myself still feel like one."
She laughed and said, "Well, isn't that good?"
And then I thought to myself, is it? I don't know. I'm supposed to be a grown-up, with grown-up responsibilities and such. But take away the rent, the bills, and the fact that I drive a car and can consume alcohol legally, I'm still a kid with his toys. Living day to day, paycheck to paycheck without a damn clue where his next meal is coming from.
Probably from Taco Bell or McDonald's.
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