Life is good

This week­end it’s my turn to do the house­hold clean­ing. I think I essen­tial­ly chased out the rest of the house­mates with the vac­u­um clean­er, but it’s prob­a­bly their gain since it’s beau­ti­ful and sun­ny out­side. I’ve got a lot of the deck doors open and I even let Ozzy go out in the sun, though I kept a close eye on him out there on the deck.

I was mop­ping the floor of the sec­ond lev­el with my head­phones on when the last house­mate left. I got the music turned up and just put my back into the mop­ping. It’s a task I take pride in, and the sun­shine and music were get­ting to me. So there I was belt­ing out my ver­sion of some Ramones tune on the iPod, not car­ing if the neigh­bors could hear, when my house­mate came back home.

Heh. Yeah, super-embar­rass­ing, but you know, there’s noth­ing wrong with get­ting caught with my inhi­bi­tions down.

Acid on the Table—Simon Stinger

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