Sunday, September 6, 2015
This is a huge bummer because I can't get a shot of myself in maybe the saddest recliners known to man, but here I am sitting in the floral one. It was floral or solid green and from floral I could reach the magazine rack and bask in the tropical elegance of glorious palm tree art, in the basement of Loyola.
What's happening here is, the stuff in the bag is intended to push the nuclear stuff onward through my body and I have to sit for an hour. I read a whole Family Circle magazine. Look at some recipes in a cooking collection. Cruise through an old Rolling Stone that has no cover and I tried a Catholic Digest but I couldn't get into it.
While I am in this room, I can hear-what they tell me is-a two week old baby screaming. I think: you go ahead, baby. Do what you need to do.