The Walls are Creeping In

One of the unexpected drawbacks to having to come back home from Chicago is the suprising lack of space I now how for my stuff, plus the fact that I can't just leave it wherever I want. Often, after a long hard day of work I would open my door, take off my work pants, and leave them sitting on the floor in the doorway. The pants would then proceed to sit in this exact spot until anyone came to visit. Since this was only about three times in four months those pants were pretty safe, and that spot became their home. They got to know that corner, and nothing else was going to displace them from that spot.

Being back at home gives me a defined space, one that does not exceed the walls of my bedroom. Don't get me wrong, my apartment wasn't huge by any means, but it was a lot bigger than my bedroom, and so I'm starting to run into some problems. I haven't broken the habit of just leaving random crap all over, except now this crap doesn't have its private space, and because of this a crazy battle has begun between the arch rival pants and shorts as they jockey for position wherever they can find it. Socks are hanging off the fan, books are holding up furniture and I'm half expecting to find beer bottles under my pillows tonight.

What this all boils down to is that I've always been messy, it just works so much easier in a bigger place. I really need to clean this place up.....or I could just move out again. That might be easier at this point.

Some more random thoughts:
Why don't more people bake things with alcohol in it? It always seems like a great excuse to fill yourself up with booze in a grandmotherly sort of way. Five year olds everywhere can be getting drunk off rum cake but the world would let it slide because "Hey, it must be safe, it's in pastry form"

My friend Marc has that XM Satellite Radio, and it's pretty cool for lots of reasons. Hundreds of stations, music, sports, talk, news, etc. The only drawback we could find was whenever you wanted to hear a song you liked, which was always, they were rarely playing anything good....and by rarely I mean never.

I tried calling a friend's cell phone and I must have written the number down wrong because when I called it I got a very old, very heavy accented women. Confused, I asked for April and got some sort of answer that I couldn't make out, other than it sounded like "Othello isn't here". This makes me wonder if there is actually someone in Windsor named Othello. If there is, I apologize, I think I woke your grandma dude!

Reading - The Sound and The Fury
Listening To - "Little Sister" by Queens of the Stone Age (I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell)