Unsporting

[rejectomorph]

The stores sold out of my favorite beer again. If I had remembered that today was Super Blow Sunday, I'd have picked some up earlier in the week. That's the disadvantage of not following sports. The only disadvantage, as far as I can tell. It might be a disadvantage if I still went to barber shops, because that's what they talk about there, but for the last few years I've been hacking my own hair off. Sure, it looks like crap most of the time, but where do I have to go that I'd need it to look like not crap? To the market to discover that they've sold out of my favorite beer again? Screw them! I have no desire to please clerks who can't even keep their shelves stocked properly.

They weren't sold out of salsa, though, and I bought plenty, so there will be burritos this week. Burritos are good in cold weather, and there are a few cold days coming up. Cold-ish, anyway. It really ought to be snowing in February, but we're still getting late fall or early spring cold— uncomfortable but uninteresting. Still appropriate for burritos, though. In fact, right now is appropriate. I'll just make a small one, so it won't seem like I'm eating dinner twice. Wish I had the right kind of beer to go with it.




Sunday Verse

From the Garden

by Anne Sexton

Come, my beloved,
consider the lilies.
We are of little faith.
We talk too much.
Put your mouthful of words away
and come with me to watch
the lilies open in such a field,
growing there like yachts,
slowly steering their petals
without nurses or clocks.
Let us consider the view:
A house where white clouds
decorate the muddy halls.
Oh, put away your good words
and your bad words. Spit out
your words like stones!
Come here! Come here!
Come eat my pleasant fruits.