Good morning! Happy new year! All that! Wooot!
I forgot how on this side of town, everyone explodes things to celebrate the new year. Huge booming sounds and the crack of pistols at 40 paces. Luckily I sleep with my head under a pillow, the result of two years of boarding school life and an early bedtime, and once the eyes are closed they stay that way. I hope the community center is still standing across the street.
It's once again cold, wet, rainy, and blowy out there. I'm determined, though, to set everything up Just So so that I can truly kick some ass writing my book in the new year. The most dicey part of this plan is that I want to be able to use the office, which right now is Manny's. It's not like I want to kick him out completely; on the contrary. But I do want to clear the decks. This will not go over well, I can tell you now. He is deeply suspicious of moving any furniture whatsoever. This is why I reserved the furniture moving to yesterday, so that I could enlist the help of Manny's stepfather, who was refreshingly willing to take the other end of a couch and do as he was told.
I like the new arrangement. I can sit in Manny's manly chair and look out the window at the tossing trees. An endless stream of seagulls rises up out of the middle of the horizon and catches the wind. I suppose they must loop around somehow, because how could it be endless? How does that work?
Could it be that we are privy to the Source of Seagulls? The rock from whence they spring? We are the West Coast's primary dealer in seagull and seagull-related product!
Breakfast.
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