Ah, it’s Wednesday, the sun is shining, and they’re calling for 80 degree temperatures today. Who could resist lunch on the patio at the ol’ standby. Certainly not I. Nearby there’ll also be the Worlds Largest Game of Catch going on at 7th Place—I’ll have to snag a few pictures of that.

I’m starting to get used to the idea of biking into work now—it’s getting warmer out, and though thoroughly sweaty and jelly-legged by the time I get here, it’s a more pleasant idea knowing that I’m saving on gas, getting some good exercise, and helping do a little bit more to reduce the emissions that I’m personally responsible for.

Though, I’m sure all that will change soon. We’ve had our second consecutive showing last night, and hopefully we’ll have a few more this week as well. If we’re able to sell soon, I might have to rethink my transportation options depending upon the distance. At this point, we’ve got a pretty wide search area that we’re covering—so we could stay in the area, we might end up in Fridley, maybe even Maplewood or North Saint Paul. The important thing is that we find a house that’s going to work well for us.

We’ve also got our for sale sign now, standing its ground like a bright red and white beacon shouting to the entire neighborhood, “yes, that’s right… we’ve only been here two years and we’re moving already.” For the most part, I’ve loved living in our house, this neighborhood, and being so close to everything. Aside from our house being too small for our near-future needs, the only thing I can’t stand is one of the guys in my neighborhood, who insists on using his leaf blower every day of the week—even if he only has a few blades of grass on his driveway. He thinks he has to use his leaf blower to display some sort of superior testosterone level over said blade of grass. Lame. If he only knew how many hydrocarbons he was emitting into the air every time he uses that damn thing.

And one last thing that annoys me—leaf blower guy’s pre-teen kid. He’s an awkward, lanky junior higher, but arrogant and disrespectful beyond reason. I don’t know what’s his problem, but he insists on pestering me, insulting me, making fun of me, calling me names, etc. I’ve never wanted to kick someone’s ass as much I have that punk kid. He has a way of getting under my skin and making my blood boil over. If I didn’t value my future—as in whether or not I prefer to spend my days in an 8′ x 8′ cell—I’d pound some manners into that kid. However, since I’m trying to live a more civilized existence, where violence doesn’t become me, I have to somehow just ignore the little brat.

There’s just no justice for that kid. And I don’t think his father cares either.

BUT it’s hump day—the week is nearly half over and it’s going to be gorgeous outside. Here’s to hoping we have a few more showings this week.

May 9, 2007, 8:34 am

Filed under: General

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