LongeCity - Every thirty seconds

a lost soul gets a massage license.

I'm in a business using a computer.

Sight: businessy gray speckled formica surfaces, gray walls, "Matzoh"* is here.

Sound: a slicing noise from the paper cutter

Smell: vague xerox paper smell

Taste: the diet coke I drank earlier

Feeling: the cushiony chair I brought with me (now my wheelchair is a walker/cart/portable seat) and the thick suede jacket swaddling me.

Overall feeling: Pretty good.

Earlier I went to a "gastro-pub" to eat a burger I hoped would be better than fast food. First, their number wasn't in the phone book even though they have been around for several years. Spooky. That happens a lot now where I live due to incompetence by the phone company. I went there. For thirteen dollars I thought the burger was weird, and they use hydrogenated oil on the fries so I had to get coleslaw. The help was nice. At least I tried something new and I was treated nicely. Then I came to where I am now. I keep seeing Matzoh all over town. I live in a large city and don't have a schedule. I keep seeing certain people over and over; the lady who goes everywhere I go, a former health food store worker, and Matzoh. Those are the current ones. Over times there have been others. What's up with that? He's using a laptop and there's a tote bag with him that might belong to his girlfriend. He looks fairly healthy.

I really wanted to get some work done today but I did other stuff online instead. I'm trying to forgive myself.

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* other blog entries about this person:

/forum/blog/92/entry-2180-the-ice-cream-bandit-the-pokemon-guy/

/forum/blog/92/entry-479-the-mystery-of-the-matzohs/

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