Juicy

Today is Monday, the Monday after Thanksgiving. I typically enter the Monday workday feeling alright, but it soon becomes painfully obvious my mental capacity resembles that of a concussed man. Too much alcohol, pills, or smack you might ask? Negative, it's just the way I am.

A natural result of this brain-dead-um is that my production and efficiency is off a bit on Mondays, though it doesn't take much adrenaline to shoot me to the moon, though it takes more on Monday than any other day of the week. I'm a trooper, though, always saying to myself, "Just do your best, Chad."

So today I did my best. I drove to work, which always makes me sad--driving, not so much going to work--but I did so with good reason. Then I worked, because that's what I do on some level every time I get to work, after I eat a little breakfast from the ACES World Headquarters Commissary.

It was rainy and dark today, so it was dark in my office, lit only by a desk lamp rather than firing up the urine-stained lights overhead in my office. I got enough done, though I'm still at a draft point with something I'd rather be at a final draft point on.

I listened to some tunes today, some college radio music something on my (free) Sirius on the way to work, and a little 89.3 The Current while at work. I took off around 4:30, so I could give blood at a neighborhood blood drive. I needed to stop by the hardware and get some fake road salt stuff, because this rain today will freeze tomorrow. And the safety of the people is my utmost concern.

I gave blood, noticing that everyone continues to look familiar to me but I actually know none of them. It doesn't seem I've been around quite long enough for everyone to seem familiar, but who knows. I'll be more concerned when everyone smells the same.

Ever notice how over your life you will see people here and there who look the same as someone you saw, like, 20 years ago and 1,343 miles away? It's kind of like there are "styles" of people--not clothes style but face styles or something. It's weird.

There was a girl at the blood drive who looks like Leonardo DiCaprio.

I gave blood, some sort of double plasma reverse scenario, where they suck twice as much blood out, steal the red blood cells, then squirt it all back into you plus some saline. It made my face tingle and my head sizzle, fo' shizzle. Then I ate a taco and some mini Oreos. There are advantages to giving blood in a Catholic church, and having a taco bar at the ready is one of those.

Then I went home, and on my way home I heard "There There" by Radiohead (here's an acoustic version) on the college station. That was sweet.

"Just 'cause you feel it, doesn't mean it's there. There There."

Amen.

It's warm here, about 40 degrees. So I went home and decided to walk up to the coffee shop to grab some beans, so I did that. Then I came home, did my chores, heard "Down by the River" by The Decemberists for about the sixth time and really noticed the twanging REM-esque rhythmic guitar, which is awesome. Then I sat my tail down to read and watch a little basketball, for like nine minutes. Now I am blogging.

Next up, season two episode seven of The Wire. Then sleep. Maybe.

It's a good life. Tomorrow I will "not drive" (which means bike or transit, tomorrow transit) to work for the 95th time this calendar year. My goal is 100, so I'm almost there. At work I will meet early with Mike D, of the Beastie Boys, 'cause he's super smart and volunteered to help me out with a PowerPoint proposal I am working on. We'll do fine work, and he and I will both feel good about ourselves as we progress through our respective days.

Then I'll roam about the darkened downtown of Minneapolis till the lights guide me home.