Purchased house furnishings at Bed, Bath and Beyond which included:
1 ox blood colored curtain for window
1 tension rod to hang curtains
1 throw rug which has a roughly woven pattern.
Total cost: $124.
This is as much as I've spent on the apartment (not having to do with the photography business) over the last five years. Sort of scary to realize how much money and energy went into equipment and how little went into furnishings.
Also ordered one more Maxtor One Touch 300GB drives. That makes three. I can order the hardware in the blink of an eye. The curtains and such take more fortitude.
My plan for tomorrow is to get the bathroom fixed up a little, and dust off the film developing stuff which has gathered a fine layer of plaster dust from the hole near the steampipe in bathroom. Tomorrow will be Day 10, and that is another milestone. Milestones, in my opinion end on the 14th day, and after that you get to celebrate liberation on a monthly and then on a yearly basis.
1/09/2006
Day 9
The only problem I've been having since giving up my addiction has been waking up at 3 a.m. and when I say waking up, I mean it is as if my toe was stuck in the electrical outlet. Bam! No snoozing. And the dreams are what I'd call electric as well.
Last night for example, I found myself traveling the 6 train which gets detoured to Cleveland where there is a marching band that I am enlisted in. I keep telling everyone that I don't belong in Cleveland - and that I didn't know the #6 train went to Cleveland and everyone that is in Cleveland is dressing me in this high-school uniform and I find myself carrying a marching band tuba.
In other words, bam! and boom! Ump Pah. Ump Pah. The parade moves down a wide boulevard where old women are throwing flowers at us as if we are on our way off to war. And I'm puzzled by this until I look ahead and see that the band is going onto a troop ship marked: Middle East Tour of Duty.
I ditch the tuba, and scramble to the sidelines but I'm picked up by the police for illegal disposing of government property (the tuba) and taken to a holding cell in the Cleveland City Hall.
The mayor, a fat little man with an accordian case strapped to his back sits down on the other side of the bars and plays polkas for me, all the while explaining that I'm in deep trouble and that I am being accused of hijacking the #6 local.
Idiotic, I telll him. You can't hijack a subway.
True, he replies. It hasn't been done before - but that's no reason that I can't be the first. And besides, he grins - we've got the pictures to prove it.
He then continues playing a squeeky rendition of Roll Out the Barrel.
Bam. Awake. I try to fall back asleep to see what is going to happen next, but no luck.
Last night for example, I found myself traveling the 6 train which gets detoured to Cleveland where there is a marching band that I am enlisted in. I keep telling everyone that I don't belong in Cleveland - and that I didn't know the #6 train went to Cleveland and everyone that is in Cleveland is dressing me in this high-school uniform and I find myself carrying a marching band tuba.
In other words, bam! and boom! Ump Pah. Ump Pah. The parade moves down a wide boulevard where old women are throwing flowers at us as if we are on our way off to war. And I'm puzzled by this until I look ahead and see that the band is going onto a troop ship marked: Middle East Tour of Duty.
I ditch the tuba, and scramble to the sidelines but I'm picked up by the police for illegal disposing of government property (the tuba) and taken to a holding cell in the Cleveland City Hall.
The mayor, a fat little man with an accordian case strapped to his back sits down on the other side of the bars and plays polkas for me, all the while explaining that I'm in deep trouble and that I am being accused of hijacking the #6 local.
Idiotic, I telll him. You can't hijack a subway.
True, he replies. It hasn't been done before - but that's no reason that I can't be the first. And besides, he grins - we've got the pictures to prove it.
He then continues playing a squeeky rendition of Roll Out the Barrel.
Bam. Awake. I try to fall back asleep to see what is going to happen next, but no luck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)