Accomplishments (And Other Things)

I feel quite accomplished today. Of course I did nothing last week, but that's what deadlines are for!

So far I've:
Checked in online for tomorrow's flight at 6:02 am.
Played an hour of Runescape
Bought a Heavy Duty Hole Punch at Staples
Bought 2 new shirts and 5 new pairs of unmentionables at The Avenue (I love when the underwear's on sale!)
Went to the Vet for Ed Food.
Went to the post office.
Found a parking spot on 2nd street.
Went to the bank for 2 rolls of quarters.
Went outside bank and got $ from ATM for trip.
Went to Color Me Mine
Went to Open Sesame for Chicken Sharwama take-out (yum).
Did two loads of laundry while eating said take-out AND watching weird but good French subtitled movie. (Aren't you proud? I did laundry and it didn't involve a trip to the 'rents!)
Printed Screenplay
Printed Novel
Printed Screenplay #2

I'm sure I've forgotten a thing or two. Now I just have to pack and wait for Screenplay #2 to finish printing.

Yes, in case you haven't figured out by now, I'm leaving tomorrow for a mad mad mad fortnight in foul fetid fogging fuming filthly PHILLY. (Someone ought to open up a window!) {10 points to those of you that get that allusion.}

Right. So the last thing I wanted to chat about was this dream I had last night. No Jude Law... sigh. Just a bicycle and a very big gun. Someone had stolen the wheel off my bicycle, and then the next time I looked, I saw a girl in a long white nightgown taking the rest of the bicycle out of the back of my truck. Yeah, I had a pick up. Anyway, I chase after her up this green hill, and when I get to the other side, there she is without my bike. Then she points an automatic weapon at me, but I manage to get it away from her and she tells me all about her gang that stole my bike.

There was a guest starring role of Sly Stallone as an ineffectual cop who couldn't arrive on time. I don't remember the end, but I beleive there was a trade of gunfire between me and the rival gang.

All of this reminded me of something I overheard while getting back into my car this afternoon. Two girls were in a little alcove behind a business on 2nd st. They were a bit Goth, and in their early twenties. One girl was argueing on her cell phone.

"Look. I need to talk to my husband. I need to tell him something. There's something he doesn't know. I don't care. I want to talk to him. He needs to know I'm pregnant. Now you listen-"

Sometimes life offers you little story windows. Unfortuntately I couldn't stay much longer to hear the rest of the conversation, without it being totally obvious, but I think one day, that might make itself into a story.