Back in Ohio again, typing on my momma's loud keyboard. The family Newfoundland should be by any minute to investigate who's making all the racket.
My day started out medium-crappy. Couldn't find receipts for African expenditures, my train went express way past my stop, my plane lifted off late, and I started going through the three months of bills I'd missed while out of the country. New York City wants $165 for a single parking violation: perhaps appropriate if I'd parked on a baby carriage. Cell phone has been cancelled for months, but Verizon wants $25 more. And my insurance company is trying to screw me ex post facto on my mono-related doctor bills.
On the plane to Ohio, I'm trying to get through this book about how foreign aid can leave poor countries worse off. I read from pages 167 to page 186 on the way over. Next to me, my lady companion whizzes through the new book she'd bought in the terminal. By the time we touched down, she was on page 187. Dang speedy readee.
But I'm back in the womb now. Dad made dinner, mom asked about Africa, dog by my foot. Reading a James Ellroy book I stole from my dad. Hopefully some kindof blogworthy crap tomorrow.
