During a sunset walk today with the mutt, I noticed a home in my neighborhood on which the house number had been placed in three places — practically one on top of the other on top of the other.
It made me wonder why.
And that observation, dear Diary, might have ranked as my day’s high point if not for lunch with a couple of recovering journo friends, one of whom even picked up the tab. In the language of Twitter and Charlie Sheen: #winning.
Of course, both of my lunch partners were smart enough to get out of journalism and find respectable employment way before I was thrown out of the news pool last week. And they both teased me about becoming an infamous Muscatine blogger, going so far as to thank me for putting on real clothes and leaving my pajamas at home.
They didn’t miss the truth by much. It was only the second time in the past 10 days when I wore something other than jeans and a sweatshirt or gym clothes.
I came home and read a blog posting, “20 sure signs you might be a WordPress junkie.” It’s what my life appears to have become — only with a much smaller audience.
But in addition to compulsively blogging, I submitted an application for a job at The Newspaper Iowa Depends Upon — there’s a reference that may give away my age. If you’re keeping score, dear Diary, that was the second job application of the week.
Oh, and I also managed to sneak in a nap and finish reading “The Pillars of the Earth” — a really good read about life in 12th century England.
Tomorrow is Friday. I’ll be up early to teach a cycling class at 6 a.m. And then I’ll probably stop in at Elly’s Tea & Coffee. Maybe I can find a new book to read, too.
Quick Hit: Maybe I’m alone in this, but the nation needs to move on to the next controversy and forget about Rush Limbaugh. Enough already. I don’t care what he says, or who does — or doesn’t — advertise on his show. Those who can’t stand the fact he has been on the air five days a week for 24 years have a simple alternative: Just don’t listen to him.
Today’s quote: A man can’t ride your back unless it’s bent. — The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., American leader (1929-1968)