Take The Long Way Home

It's amazing how a day can change.

I woke up an hour late for work this morning, because my dumbass, woke up at 4 AM, partially conscious, and turned off the alarm.

I was walking like a drunken sailor on the way to Market Street, in my post-somnambular stupor.

I get to work, and the microwave ruins my breakfast [it spilled].

It took me until almost 11:30, to feel mentally conscious. All I wanted to do was crawl back in bed, and sleep for 100 years. Needless to say, I wasn't a happy camper.

But all of that changed by the time I was on my way home.

As usual, I decided to walk from Market Street, so that I know I can get at least 1.5 miles of some form of exercise. Finally, we had a day that wasn't butt-crack sweltering hot. It was sunny, but pleasant.

On my trek down the mall, I ran past the Mountain-Man looking homeless dude, with the burgundy sleeping bag, I always see. He looked all clean and daisy fresh. Normally, he looks like he has been sleeping in a sand pit, but today, he was sparkling clean, with fresh duds on. Glad to see that the new homeless initiative at work.

A tad later, saw Denver Shenanigans, over by Virgin Megastore, waiting to cross the street. [Hey Denver!]. I was going to cross over and say 'howdy', finally, but, he is always on the opposite side of the mall, and I didn't feel like interrupting his homeward stroll.

I actually feel kind of like a stalker now, since I didn't walk over and say anything, yet post about it. That's ok. Denver, one day I will finally say 'hey', and buy you a belated birthday tequila shot.

As I mosey on, I pass the offices of Westword, and outfront they have those little news box things with the new issue. I grabbed one to see if they, indeed, posted my letter [it's more of a comment than a letter actually] to the editor.

They did!.

I'm such a dork.

I get a brief sense of accomplishment seeing my words in printed form, for all the masses to peruse.

Yay, me.

I galavant on to my tanning salon. Sigh, Goggle Nazi isn't working. My first thought? Maybe he went back to school. My second thought, ouch, is he younger than I thought?

Finish tanning, and I saunter over to Attivo by my place, for tomorrow's lunch.

Score!

They have the salads that I desire.

Usually, one, or more, has already been purchased. The hottie married guy isn't working though. The stoner-ish dude that's cool is, so that's cool. [At least it's not the ponytailed Deadhead that refused-to-make-me-a-tomato-salad guy].

I get home, just as it begins to rain. And, two new DVD's from Netflix arrived. Yay!

Top this off, with finally finding who gets kicked off the 'Runway', made for a pleasant end, to what started out as a crappy day.