One Whupped Puppy

When I was younger, I remember my dad referring to someone who was tired or even over-tired as a "whupped puppy." I don't know if that was a common phrase or something unique to him, and now that I'm a technically an adult, I don't see the link between a beaten canine and fatigue, but still, the expression holds (for me, at least).

All this is to say, I'm tired. Or tarred, as the folks back in Texas would say. I tried not to be friends with those folks (i.e., the rednecky, hickish drawling types), though, so really I'm just going off a stereotype. But I digress.

Last night was Art Walk in Tremont. It was interesting, as usual, especially this month's exhibit at Doubting Thomas. By the time I was walking home, I was pretty buzzed from all the free glasses of wine and donation import beers. I came home, fed and watered Ellie, talked to Ducky for a bit, then hung out with Mike. Next thing I know, I'm passed out on the couch at 3 AM, and the end credits to River's Edge are rolling.

I stagger to bed, turn on the soothing sounds of George Noory, and pass out again, regaining consciousness around 1 PM.

After bumming around the pad for a little while, I got to work cleaning and then spray-painting some of the bookshelves I acquired the other night. This took a surprisingly long time, quite a lot of elbow grease, and many more cans of paint than I expected. By the time I finished, my thumbs were completely cramped and I felt pretty stoned from all the fumes. Those folks (the ones who write the warning labels) weren't joking about painting in a well-ventilated area. Maybe I should try that next time. Which will be tomorrow, when I paint the other half of the bookcases.

After all the hard work was over, I treated myself to a healthy and delicious homemade meal, courtesy of the culinary bounty available at the West Side Market.

OK, so when I say homemade, I should clarify: it was homemade by my standards. At the market I picked up some lovely spinach and cheese raviolis and pretty killer Italian sausages (total cost was less than $10). I brought them home, grilled up the sausages on my fancy new indoor grill, covered the raviolis in a hearty, aromatic organic puttanesca sauce, rich with the flavors of olive and anchovy. It was delish.

Now I'm waiting for laundry load #3 to dry, so I can fold the shit and get back in bed. Tomorrow is another day of cleaning and painting. Yippee!