4:45 PM, Thursday afternoon. Minutia.
Toss up a handful of confetti. Pretty much a bunch of scrap paper: colorful but meaningless. In a cloud it looks nice though. Butterflies. Drifting flower petals. A group of bright and tiny fish schooling through the air.
So take a breath of these Spring-time breezes. Fling that arm up, fingers opening. Here goes:
Doing laundry. Doing dishes. Thinking of a letter and some email I want to write. Adjusting the re-structured version of my online journal (and bemoaning the lack of display standards for such things as font sizes). Got Frank Black (former Pixie) on my computer’s CD-ROM drive. The music sounds surprisingly good through the Polk Audio speakers.
Thinking of the weekend.
Thinking of getting my hair cut short for the Summer.
(Noting that I frequently miss the Shift key when typing on this keyboard.) I’d like to completely over-haul my website. Re-do the whole thing, perhaps using dynamic-HTML. The prospect feels sort of intimidating, though. Don’t know if I could do it all in Notepad.
(Ah, what the heck: sure I could.)
Earlier this week I flirted with growing a mustache and then decided not to. Writing that last sentence made me laugh out-loud. Guess it’s one of those days: A whole lot of mental confetti tumbling through my mind.
I really made myself a great sandwich for breakfast: spicy jack cheese, tomato, broccoli sprouts, green and red pepper slices and mushrooms on Italian bread. Yummy.
Wanting to be swallowed-up by my writing for a while. That’d be cool.
And I’d still like to do some RealAudio stuff on this site.
I’m working on a weird HTML thing that I’ll start putting up once it is more defined. I think it’s pretty neat even now, though.
But I’m easy, though.
Bunch of confetti, eh? What do you think? Not a lot of meaning. Not a lot of structure. Flittering impressions -- all true. Bits of me and my day today. Not exactly the finale of a big fireworks display. Just scraps of colored paper.
Over quickly and easy to sweep up.
--- JWR, 4/23/98
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