About to observe yet another effing birthday. Can't really prognosticate much about it, because, honestly, I haven't given it much thought aside from wondering if the GITB will come through and deliver the new Sprinsgteen CD.And I have been traveling my ass off this month, to L.A.for a week, home for about 18 hours then off to Scottsdale for another week. Still swimming around in the corporate cesspool and at this point it's tolerable only because I know I'm making decent money for what I do and the market in which I live. Plus we have a kid in college and that aint cheap, sister. So banking as much green as we can, what with now being at the top of our earning power and all that shit, because, you know, we will be dead soon.
I have decided it's time to ditch my 20-something-year-old Target suitcase now that the handles are starting to come off and the zipper keeps jamming. It makes me a little sad. That dark green rolling shitbox has been on a lot of trips with me, pretty much around the world twice. I can't imagine how truly filthy it is, now that I think about it. I have stripped all the tags and crap off of it and it's parked in the kid's room at the moment but I will need to move it soon because she will be coming home for Eastover next weekend. I thought about donating it to Goodwill but the thing is, the shit that is wrong with it will be just as annoying to a poor person as it is to me, so fuck it.
So I think what I will do is give it the send-off it deserves: burial at sea. I don't do cruises, so while the green shitbox has been on trains and planes from here to Paris, it's never been seafaring, and that's just not fair, so what the hell, I think I will drive to the top of the John's Pass Bridge one of these nights and toss it over the guardrail. And then I will jump in my car and speed off like a criminal leaving the scene of a crime, because, you know, that part will be true.
