Today's felt off key somehow. Disjointed. Breakfast at 12:30, diner coffee during daylight hours on a patio so thoroughly shaded it felt like the indoors, but for the breeze. Sunshine and wet dog smell at the Los Feliz street fair. Emptying my wallet of cash for art. Writing a scene for my screenplay in a Starbucks. Fifteen minutes late to the library. Too tired from walking around to go to the gym. Covering screenplays; asking the writer if Miles Davis really deserves to go to heaven. The season finale of Six Feet Under, seven days before the season premiere. Nina Simone, stuck in my head. A desire to drink red wine.
Nothing quite as it usually is.
Good to have a day like this, every once in a while. But the effort of keeping up with life gone awry wears me out.
Tomorrow, I'm quitting my job. In a week, I start a new one.
The pieces, they fit together. The same old song and dance.