Confusing thoughts...

Some days just sitting down by the round table in my living room, with a pile of papers and books and my laptop, makes my stomach hurt.

I have nothing... instead I give you this --

"I never can quite say as much as I know. I look at other parrots and I wonder if it's the same for them, if somebody is trapped in each of them, paying some kind of price for living their life in a certain way..."
-- Jealous Husband Returns in Form of Parrot from the NEW YORKER by Robert Olen Butler

Disturbing little short story, really. Not about reincarnation at all, but wishing to make people understand... communication, miscommunication... and many other things I can't put my finger on. Such is the effect many short stories have on me -- I know I learned something, I'm just not sure what (or how to say it, which bring me back to the quote again).

Baton Rouge = Perkins. On most days, I travel up and down this one long street, exhausting my gas. It has everything I need, almost.

Tomorrow is my turn to cook for my roomies and Shelly. Does it matter that I actually make the food, or is the whole point to share a meal with friends? I'm 99% sure I'll be buying one thing or another to feed my friends. I've reached the conclusion that I can only cook for myself.