what's up?


1938 zephyr

quick post, cuz i'm just fried. couldn't sleep last night because it was so hot, and the fans too annoyingly loud to be of any affect. and the air blowing over my skin just tickled me and flicked my hair about often enough to keep me awake. sort of like a little kid pointing his tiny finger at you, and every so often jabbing you in the nose or ear or arm.

i'm sure i got at least a couple of hours of restless sleep, just not good sleep.

wasn't as tired as the guy whose car was sideways on the freeway in front of a semi this morning at five thirtyish. that it wasn't smashed was suprising. almost like the truck happened upon it in the pre-dawn, and was stopped to protect it from other motorists.

but sometimes, i feel like that could be me. just zoning out on autopilot going to work. i need to change my hours, but i just can't see how i can do it, and not hit traffic one way or the other and get back to whittier each day with any day left to do anything.

i'd move my computer to my mom's and stay there more often, if i wasn't so sure that my dad might accidently burn the house down in his increasing forgetfulness.

followed this zephyr into the reeking small baseball field at san fernando. it's like they know there's a show there every year, and the groundskeepers think it's a good idea to fertilize the day before. are they being funny, or do they have a schedule to stick to, to get the grass to grow in time for baseball season next year?

whatever, i stomped back there a couple of times, since as soon as the little group of cars parked, they started polishing and shining the chrome. gotta shoot in between buffs, or come back when they leave to have a look at other cars.

the owner said he had six or seven other zephyrs at home. must be nice to have your own team. i think i'd be too nervous to drive a car that low, that stretched, that nice.

well, off to bedski. g'night.