Brain Parasites

Oops.  I missed the Emmy's last night.  I think I got it all, though, in a few minutes with The NY Times this morning.  I looked at the photos of Emmy fashion.  Hoo boy.  I read the winners and the losers.  I don't understand the judging.  What is the criteria?  Where is it codified?

But that is as much time as I care to spend with that.  The gray morning wears on, and I am a bundle of nerves.  Tennessee is going to try to fix the drain pipe in my bathroom today.  I will be his helper.  I have no faith that we will get it fixed without tearing out tile and drywall.  The whole thing will inconvenience me in other ways as well.  I don't like to put myself in people's debt.  I've helped T out on several of his own projects, but only as extra hands.  

Whatever.  It will be what it will be.  

I looked at Sunday's football scores this morning.  Why?  It beats me.  I don't watch football anymore.  Too commercial.  As I looked across the scores, though, I saw that the Minnesota Vikings had beaten somebody.  It occurred to me that Vikings represent a people the way the Indians and the Redskins did.  Those team names are gone, so how in the hell is it OK to name a team the Vikings?  Might as well have a team called the New Jersey Jews or the Cleveland Hillbillies.  Really. . . WTF?  

Now here is something inappropriate if you like.  I shouldn't tell you that it cracks me up. . . but it does.  

(link)

I'll regret that, I am sure.  I won't post the video of the song it came from, though.  I'm not that dumb. 

I read a book review this morning of a collection of short stories I am going to have to read or be left out of the conversation.  Reportedly, this writer is good (link).  He's getting a lot of virtual "ink" and has been compared to Anthony Bourdain and Hunter S. Thompson in temperament.  Hmm. 

Tell me, if you can, what syndrome has gripped the people who have already put up Halloween decorations in mid-September.  What the hell is happening?  I think it must be brain parasites or some psychological disorder of which I am unaware.  Have people's emotional lives become this impoverished?

The coffee I am drinking is not helping my anxiety at all.  I'm as skittish as. . . (you choose).  I need to do something to help me calm down.  Repairs today, the wrecking crew tomorrow.  I get beautified on Wednesday after which I have been scheduled to take my mother and her neighbor and the rest of the 'hood, too, for beer at Chili's.  Even the smallest of schedules throws me for a loop anymore.  

I also read this morning that "scientists" (all of them?) say that participating in the arts and crafts is good for a person's mental acuity.  Maybe I'll take up crocheting.  

"Breathe, bubba. . . breathe."