My life is not a fucking tragedy

This afternoon, on my way to pick up a craigslist item downtown, I sat down in the sun by the California Street cable car place.

I was on my way from a meeting (people who work graveyard should be exempt from having to go to company daytime meetings, dammit) to go pick up a craigslist firewire burner. Knowing I had a little time to kill, I dawdled on my way.

I am one lucky sumbitch. In the warm sun, I leisurely opened up my steaming package of creamy Fish and Chips, done authentic English Style at Old Chelsea Fish and Chips on Larkin, and people-watched. And then when I was done, I liesurely sniffed my fishy and vinegary and tater smelling fingers, the smell driving my bench neighbors to distraction as they kept looking over to what I was munching on, wiped them with a knapkin, then powered on the camera and started shooting.

Yeah yeah. I wasnt getting any sleep, and the firewire drive, I dont have a 6 pin cable like I thought I did so I cant use it immediately and and...

Yeah, right. My life is a fuckin' tragedy.

I am in San Francisco with no serious worries, following my path.

I stopped my bitching, leaned back and enjoyed the afternoon in the sun.