Read tweets and imagine
Home alone? Great title for a movie. In real life, a bit dull. Ask the dog, who has spent as much of the day outside as I would allow. Yes, I’m at home, alone, and talking to oneself is permitted if there is a companion animal in the room. Right?
Two days of reheated pizza sounds as good as it tastes. I can’t help it if the box has more food inside than required for a balanced meal. Or four. The plate is empty, but the memory will live on. Tomorrow, I promise myself, I’ll find something better. Those frozen precooked sausages that are down in the freezer could be the answer, if I would ask the right question.
At least there’s radio. Thank you, Mr. Bachman, for setting up a playlist that brings back a flood of memories. Why, when Cream were big, I went with my father to buy the sheet music at the local furniture store. The stuff was beyond my ability, particularly on the euphonium (come on, low brass rocks!). Little matter; intentions are the basis of all success. Again, right? Perhaps this “home alone” idea should have been put to a vote.
Oh well, at least there was a sunset (I think). I might have let my attention lapse about that time (you call things like that “a nap”). And now I’m moving into night. Watched some curling this afternoon, but it wasn’t “my” team. And in college football, I’m required to read tweets and imagine the show.
