Carpenters, Congestion, and Carrying On

Rainy days and mondays always get me down... Remember that one? The cathartic and semi-catatonic super-thin mellow babe crooning in retro-memories. That's what today is.

My head feels like a yellow blob and when I speak, I can hear myself resonate. My cranium is a cave. It's raining outside and the coolness is starting to creep back in. It's that icky chill that even makes healthy stallions feel like gazelles on vacation in Rio de Ja-tundra. It's not a stark cold, just one that brittles your constitution.

I'm still hunting for a car to purchase and a laptop to buy and as the reality of seeing multiple money signs stream before me settles in, I find out just how waterproof my wallet can be. Maleness is running amuk. That's not a bad thing. Just how my wires have been harnessed.

So it's Suda-fed land and careful planning and rest that shall win the day, even when talking to myself and feeling old, sometimes I’d like to quit and nothing ever seems to fit and even when I'm hangin’ around and there's nothing to do but frown, I'll not submit to the retro-babe's call. Whining is not a virtue.