Pulled the car out on Friday. Plugged the battery in, turned the key, blew a fuse. Flipped the fuse panel cover to discover the last of spare fuses that have been clipped into the back of it since I bought the car was exactly the one I needed, so that was nice.
Car started, moved, wasnt full of rat turds. All good things.
Then I was asked to take some photos of dogs.
The dogs were lovely. I don't like the photos so much. Even with two animals who you can pretty much instruct to pose any way you want, I couldn't come up with anything cool. Half the shots weren't in focus or exposed right, and the post production work was a bunch of haphazard knob-pulling in both senses of the word. I also got tackled and licked a lot but I guess that wasnt so bad.
Tonight I watched Millers Crossing over some Madras from the shop down the road and was basically a worthless piece of shit in a black-hole of couch.
Then somehow with a stomach full of oil and fat I went out and ran faster and longer than I ever have before. The fucking run tracker app on my phone even sent me a bunch of emails telling me how great I am.
2 years ago