Monday, January 05, 2009
Last night I felt like a pile of sludge, so after working out briefly this morning I spent a couple of hours cleaning like a mad housewife. It seems counter-intuitive that scrubbing stray hairs from behind a toilet should make me feel better about life; they could gather together into a massive brown tumbleweed, for all I really care. I only dislike the idea of having to push aside a hair forest every time I make water.
Pars prima of my errand-running for the afternoon consists in purging myself of a few books that I do not particularly need. The list:
Elie Wiesel- NightMost of these I read in high school and have clung to for little reason, other than especially liking them. But let some other kid read them fo' cheaps. I had two copies of Tess, which is probably unnecessary.
Harper Lee- To Kill A Mockingbird
Lord Byron- Byron's Poetry
Barbara Ehrenreich- Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America
Thomas Keneally- A River Town
Elizabeth Winthrop- The Castle in the Attic
Jerry Spinelli- Maniac Magee
F. Scott Fitzgerald- Flappers and Philosophers
Robert Cormier- Tenderness
Thomas Hardy- Tess of the d'Urbervilles
Anzia Yezierska- Bread Givers
Thomas Keneally- Schindler's List
My housemate has mentioned I may have his old bike, which needs tire replacements; if this does not prove costly, I will wheel it down to the shop (pars secunda).
Labels: bicycle, books, Byron, Elie Wiesel, errands, hair, Maniac Magee, Nickel and Dimed, Thomas Hardy, Thomas Keneally, To Kill a Mockingbird, toilets, working out
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 10:43 AM]